Reunited

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Reunited ISBN 9781419917035 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Reunited Copyright © 2008 Sally Painter Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication July 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

REUNITED Sally Painter

Dedication To my mom, Irene, and my editor, Sue-Ellen Gower. Thank you.

Reunited

Chapter One Garrett Dermonté crouched on top of the cemetery wall, peering into the darkness…waiting. A breeze stirred through the canopy of tall oaks, allowing him a brief glimpse of a nearly full moon. Something had drawn him here. It began as an anxious rumbling in his gut. Nothing unique. But as he drew closer to town the feeling grew. By the time he entered the sleepy coastal community, the sensation was so intense he parked the car and set out on foot to investigate. The unsettling energy had pulled him to this pre-colonial cemetery and so now he sat. Waiting. Just as he’d done for what felt like an eternity, perched along rooftops and walls waiting for his prey to emerge from the darkness. He stared down into a sea of dappled light and shadows moving over crypts and tombstones as the world swayed to the rhythm of a lazy summer breeze. Suddenly, the wind shifted, carrying new scents into the cemetery. Summer flowers perfumed the air in a sickly sweet aroma and swirled around him as if alive, taunting him to take a deeper breath. Unable to resist, Garrett sniffed. The fragrance prickled his nostrils. A presence rode the air. His pulse spiked. He sniffed again. Yes, it was undeniable. Hidden within the depths of honeysuckle and gardenia was a scent that didn’t belong. An aroma he never expected to find in a graveyard. The sacred scent of the Reconciler. It seduced him, drawing repressed hope to the surface. An emotion long destroyed in his kind. It teased him to believe once more in miracles. Closing his eyes, Garrett willed his body to calm against the rising excitement, but the scent—one only he, a Protector, could distinguish—consumed him. Could his search for the human female he’d sought for so long, a woman powerful enough to lead them out of darkness and back into light, finally be over? As though addicted, he drew the aroma into his nostrils once more. It wasn’t a scent he’d ever smelled. There had been no training to recognize it. Instead, a sacred power had been granted to him and those like him whose only purpose in life was to locate the Reconciler. And over the past centuries, that power had grown into an instinct. Centuries spent traveling over the world through an endless stream of towns, seeking the one person destined to save his race. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. She had drawn him here. Her presence was like a beacon, yet to him it was a distress call. Garrett scoped the cemetery. Was it possible his quest was over? Could she

5

Sally Painter

really be in this resort town nestled along the Albemarle Sound? It was hard to fathom how someone as important as she was tucked away in such an insignificant place, going about her daily life never suspecting that she alone held the power to reconcile his kind. Garrett shook his head, unable to trust that fate had at long last delivered her to him. One of the remaining few to believe, he was still a faithful guardian. Loyal to the original mission long after others had given up, he continued in the sacred quest. Rage roiled inside him at the thought of the Clisneach Guard. A mere shadow of their former might. So many had deserted more than the mission. They had turned their backs on the old ways and attempted to blend into the human world. Not only had faith in the Gargoyle Legend been lost, but faith in their kind. Damn traitors! Garrett ran a shaky hand through his long hair. So here he sat perched along a cemetery wall as one of the last warriors of a dying breed. Was it possible his weary journey was near an end? God in paradise, it was more than he could accept. Garrett lifted his hands in front of him, daring to tempt providence, but there was only one way to verify she was nearby. His arms shook and blood rushed to his head. He tamped down the expectant energy and stretched his fingers apart. Closing his eyes, he sought her presence. If the Reconciler was here then he should be able to call out to her telepathically and her essence would respond to the summons. Albeit, it would be an unconscious response since according to the Legend she would be unaware of her true identity. He waited. Nothing. No magnetic pull. No tingling sensation in his fingertips. He clenched his jaw tighter and drew another long breath through flared nostrils but the scent was gone. He released a bitter breath through clenched teeth. Fool! He knew it was impossible. Had his desperation to find her finally overpowered all reasoning? Had he imagined it? His breathing sharpened. What if— He shook his head, trying to keep the thought from his mind, but it was stubborn. Scenes of infected gargoyles transforming into rogues flashed in front of him—haunting memories. Rubbing sweaty hands over his face, Garrett tried to still the rising fear. There was never any single catastrophic warning, only small, seemingly insignificant changes until disciplined warriors vanished overnight, leaving behind mutant rogues devoid of all moral fiber. Dammit! He was Clisneach. He was a warrior and would face whatever came for him, even the viral mutation ravaging his race. He paused. What if he was already infected? His pulse hammered out a staccato beat. Then it was imperative he find the Reconciler before he succumbed to the disease. His breathing quickened at the thought. A sound below snapped his attention. He squinted at the shadows, peering beyond the denser ones. Warm air rushed past him, sailing over the crypts toward the Gothic church. A familiar scent, old and repulsive, assaulted his senses. That was the scent he expected to find this night, especially here. 6

Reunited

Demon. Where was it? He scanned for a shadow phasing in and out of form. Not a natural element of this world, demons always had difficulty maintaining their human disguises constantly fading out of focus. His thoughts turned to the Gargoyle Legend as he recalled the Reconciler, unlike other humans possessed the ability to detect a demon’s quick, disjointed movements. He sniffed and looked in the direction of the scent. Where there was one, there would be others. Why were they gathering here in the shadows—waiting? Who were they waiting for? His blood pumped harder. If the Reconciler was hidden in this town then the demons would sense her presence too. Oh, not her scent, but in their simplistic makeup they always knew when an adversary was nearby. He frowned. So why had they not sensed him? Garrett shook his head, knowing the answer. They had. A gargoyle was no longer a threat. He ground his teeth together. His race was doomed without the Reconciler. That is if he’d really caught her scent. Self-doubt crowded his mind. Another symptom of the virus. Dammit. These thoughts were distracting. He glanced up through the branches. It wasn’t a full moon, yet held enough illumination to empower the demons. Another sound below drew his attention. Instinct taunted him, urging him to swoop down and slay the demons before they had a chance to commit whatever heinous act they planned. Instead, he sat poised on the wall, resisting the urge to lunge for the shadows lurking behind the crypts. If he waited, time would reveal the purpose of their gathering. The statues in the cemetery contorted. He leaned forward, watching one near the edge of the graveyard come to life. The shadow shifted and a demon stepped from behind the stone sculpture. It faded then grew stronger once more. To the untrained eye, it could easily be discounted as a trick of light and shadow. To Garrett, it was a giveaway sign of a demon. “Bastards,” he growled beneath his breath and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the wall and stretched his back muscles, preparing to release his wings. “What are you up to?” he whispered, watching another demon shift free of its stone confinement. It slinked from the tomb. His attention snapped to just beyond the ironscrolled gate locked against would-be vandals where a dark shape moved along the metal fence, looking about to make sure no one witnessed its passing. The figure undulated in and out of sight as it settled into a hiding place. Instinct howled through Garrett, demanding satisfaction. He clenched his jaw against the compulsion, as the familiar tightening of his facial muscles gave way to the shift from human features to those of a panther. He was primed and eager to pounce. Garrett tightened his hands into hard fists, knowing it was impossible to prevent transforming. Still he resisted. Just a little longer.

7

Sally Painter

A sudden movement from behind the church caught his attention. His stare flashed to the gargoyles perched along the roof. Nothing. Mere statues. Silly replicas that infuriated him as stark reminders of deserters who abandoned their posts and left humans vulnerable. White-hot rage thundered through him. Garrett gritted his teeth. Tonight he needed clarity but the old issues of his race made him thirst for revenge. Patience. He must deal with the present. The past was gone but the future—the twinge of hope sparked to life earlier fluttered brighter. His gaze swept the cemetery until—there! Another figure. Edginess coiled tight in his belly. He no longer had control. The slightest provocation would set his gargoyle power free to fulfill its divine objective. His muscles tensed so tightly he shook as he fought the compulsion to sail to the ground and crush the demons one by one. Wait… There was no more waiting. Garrett arched his back, flexing tense muscles until the familiar pop sounded as taut tendons expanded. He grunted but the rustling leaves overhead masked it. The two slits along his back widened just enough to allow the large feathered wings to emerge and unfurl in the summer breeze. He sighed. It felt good to stretch and expand them. His winged shadow darkened the ground and draped over tombstones and crypts. A sudden gust of wind toyed with his feathers. Tingling sensations radiated over them and the breeze lifted one wing, tempting him to ride the current. Instead, Garrett flattened his wings along his back and crouched forward, waiting. Suddenly, the shadows below froze in their movements. They’d seen him. Darkness scrambled over gravesites like rats scurrying away from a predator. “Too late to run.” He’d marked each demon. Six. With two more near the back entrance of the cemetery. Easy enough to handle eight demons on his worst night. Adrenaline screamed through his body making him alert to the slightest sound. Garrett jerked around at the scuffling noises behind him. In the distance a slamming car door echoed through the night. He turned to the street and cocked his head to one side when a car engine started. Headlights flashed from an alley several blocks away. The wind shifted and whirled from the direction of the alley and he caught her scent again. His heart slammed against his chest. This trap was for her!

***** “Those are just silly stories, Eric.” Jen Ormand gave the teenager a stern look. “Why won’t you listen to me?” Eric Dolby stood by the back door waiting for her to finish with the last floral arrangement. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Jen. I’m telling you there’s something out there. These guys I know were in the swamp last night and they saw something that scared them real bad. And someone saw it in town—”

8

Reunited

“In the swamp? What were they doing? Drinking?” She shook her head. “Frog gigging. I don’t know what they were doing but I know they were terrified.” “Nothing changes in Averyton. People still go out into the swamps to scare themselves or get drunk.” “I’m telling you the truth. Something’s out there.” His blue eyes widened. “Look, those stories have been around since before I was born. Ghost stories are a natural part of our state’s history. What self-respecting North Carolina town would be without its trademark scary stories?” Jen mentally blocked the childhood memories but her heartbeat quickened and the familiar fear threatened to seize her. She looked up at the teen, noting his shoulder-length hair had grown lighter during the past week, no doubt from the summer sun. His dark frown seemed so childish set against the faint stubble shading his otherwise smooth face. He moved over to the loading dock and examined the large metal door, mumbled something under his breath, and then pushed the bolts on either side. The metal scraped into place. “And what you saw as a kid? Was that some trademark story?” he asked. Jen stiffened her spine at the question asked so carelessly. The reminder sliced through her. Eric had no way of knowing how that night had unhinged her life. No one knew the truth about what happened, much less all those years afterward. It had become a dark family secret. One her parents had taken to their graves. One she would take to her own grave. “Go on home, Eric, it’s late,” she said, straining to keep the emotion from trembling in her voice. Why had he mentioned the incident? He knew the topic was off limits. She never discussed it. Everyone thought her refusal to talk about the ill-fated Halloween Eve was because it embarrassed her. If they only knew the truth—that one incident had heralded a lifetime of therapy and ten years later, at the age of seventeen, an admission into a psychiatric hospital. She took a deep breath. It was all behind her now. The yearlong commitment in the hospital had healed her and she’d gone on to attend college, graduate and even start a career. That is until she gave it up to return home. Home? It no longer felt like it since her parents were dead. “I’m too tired to argue with you. Just go and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She frowned at Eric when he didn’t make any move to leave. “It’s nearly one o’clock, Eric.” She hoped her look was stern enough to force him to leave. “That’s my point. It’s after one in the morning, Jen. I don’t care what you say about us living in a small town or the stories ain’t nothing to worry about. We’ve got a lot of strangers in town. You know how crazy it gets in the summer. I heard we’ve got a record number of tourists already and it’s just the end of June. It would be real easy for something to hide among them.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Well, Averyton’s always been a favorite stopover on the way to the Banks, but I doubt anything sinister is hiding here, posing as a tourist,” she said, attempting to force

9

Sally Painter

a smile and pretend she found it amusing when in truth she found it very unsettling. She added another sprig of baby’s breath to the bouquet, trying to ignore him and reassure herself the teenager was overreacting to the latest goblin scare. “But it’s easy to overlook something like this when we have so many strangers coming and going every day.” He unfolded his arms with an exasperated gesture as he flung them out to his sides. “These stories ain’t nothing to joke about. I know these guys. They’re scared, Jen. Grown men acting like terrified little kids.” The memory flashed in front of her. A full moon shining through tall trees in the cemetery. Darkness. Terror. Her own screams still resounded in her mind twenty-one years later as clear as if it were yesterday. She met the teenager’s brooding look. It seemed to be his only expression ever since his father’s sudden death. Her heart tugged with the need to hug him. Instead, she blocked the empathic response to his pain. She knew how it felt to be alone. The harshness of her loss was sometimes unbearable. Eric was only sixteen, too young to suffer the death of a parent. A sudden burst of grief over her parents’ deaths threatened her composure and Jen turned from him, pretending to pick something up from the floor. She pushed the tears away and straightened to add another sprig of filler to the arrangement. Jangling sounds came from the front of the shop. She looked past him, expecting Marcy Reames, his co-worker, to emerge from the curtained doorway. “Just let me stay until you’re finished,” he pleaded, drawing her attention back to him. “All these stories are part of the season, Eric. You should know that. You grew up in this town. The merchants start the chatter every year to drum up more tourism.” “This ain’t like that.” He shook his head. “These ain’t just ghost stories I’m talking about. They saw something in the swamps. Something not human. It chased them. They were lucky and got back to their truck and drove away before it got them.” Fear shone in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. Jen could not risk opening up old wounds. She’d spent too many painful years learning to heal. She refused to allow a teenage boy’s ghost story to threaten all she’d accomplished. “It’s been a long day,” she said, hearing the harshness in her voice. A painful look washed over his face. She took a deep breath. As much as she regretted hurting his feelings, she had no intention of being dragged back into that dark, frightening place. Never again. Eric was just a kid. She steeled herself against the need to comfort him. Jen couldn’t risk even contemplating the rumors, much less discussing if they were true or not. She wouldn’t allow herself to be sucked into the drama. “Jen.” His voice sounded childlike. “I want to finish this last arrangement then clean up.”

10

Reunited

“Clean up? Are we staying to help, after all?” The teenage girl emerged from the curtained doorway leading to the front of the flower shop. She flashed a wide smile and let the curtain fall behind her. Several strands of her long dark hair clung to the material and then fell free. “No one is staying but me. I couldn’t have filled these orders for the funeral tomorrow without both of you staying to help, but it’s late. Time for you to go home.” Marcy looked from Eric to her and jangled a key ring from the end of a shiny fake fingernail. “I’ve got the keys. Are you sure it’s okay for me to drive the van? I mean, had I known my lame boyfriend was going to fall asleep and not answer the stupid phone when I called… I just couldn’t call and wake up my poor mom. She has to get up at four every morning to see my daddy off on his trawler and she just got a new job which means up again at six—” “Drive it. What good does it do sitting in the alley all night?” Jen asked. “Only that it’s ready at eight o’clock in the morning for me to start loading my deliveries.” Eric gave Marcy a worried glance. “You know what, Eric, since Marcy will have the van she can do the deliveries tomorrow. Why don’t you sleep in? Don’t plan on coming in until after lunch, say twelve-thirty,” she said and lifted a gladiola. Marcy squealed and slapped him on the shoulder, hopping up and down beside his six-foot muscular frame. “I get to make the deliveries,” she singsonged and jerked the door open. It scraped against the uneven concrete floor. Still singing, she waved to Jen and left the shop. Eric frowned, watching her climb into the vehicle. The engine turned over and the van jerked out of the alley. He slammed the door closed. Jen sensed his silent seething and wrapped a stiff wire around the base of the flower. He seemed so moody lately. Perhaps he was just working through grief. She could certainly relate to the multiple stages of mourning. The wire slid into the flower head. Handling the sudden death of a parent was difficult enough for her at twentyeight—she had no idea how he was coping. Easing the stem into the vase past the other flowers, Jen smiled. Perfect. The large spray of light and dark purple hues was the last arrangement. She sighed, allowing the ache in her back to release down her spine. “I always do the deliveries, Jen. Why’d you go and tell Marcy she could? It’s my job. All these have to be delivered to the funeral home by ten tomorrow morning.” Eric gestured to the roomful of standing arrangements. “Marcy can manage,” she said. His angry glare scorched her back as she lifted the arrangement and carried it toward the cooler. “You can’t let her do this,” he insisted and rushed in front of her to open the door.

11

Sally Painter

“You worry too much, Eric. She did a good job when your father di— When you were out. She’ll do fine tomorrow.” Jen moved past him and placed the arrangement on the cooler rack. “Marcy and the way she drives?” His laughter rose and fell as though his voice couldn’t find the right pitch. “I’ve already told you to go home, Eric. I’ve given you tomorrow morning off. Go enjoy yourself. You’re too young to be so serious.” “Life got serious. You of all people should understand that. You lost both your parents. At least I still have my mom.” “All the more reason I’m determined not to worry over things so much.” A burning in her throat knotted against the effort to stop unwanted tears from filling her eyes. Four months since her parents’ deaths, and the truth about their car wreck was still a big mystery. She glanced over her shoulder and met the dark scowl. “At least let me help you get the rest of these into the cooler.” He started for one of the nearby arrangements. “Got it.” Jen lifted it before he could. Eric’s forehead furrowed, an intense glint flashing in his brown eyes. “Will you please go? I can manage. Been doing it my whole life, well, practically. I can’t count the years I lived in Savannah.” Her voice trailed off as memories of her first year on her own invaded her thoughts. She mentally shook the musings from her mind. “My point is, Mom taught me how to do an arrangement when I was just a kid. And Dad made sure I knew everything about running the business. I ran the shop whenever they went on trips…until private schools…look, trust me—I’ve closed up by myself millions of times.” “I know, but you haven’t heard these guys talking about last night. One of them said it marked the beginning of the Legend and you know what that means. They could already be here and if they are then everyone’s in danger. It’s—” “Stop it,” she snapped. Her breathing quickened. The last thing she wanted to think about was some ancient legend about gargoyles and demons. “It’s time you leave.” Eric shuffled his feet, still reluctant to give up. Jen stopped wiping down the worktable and faced him. Why did he repeatedly test her patience? She didn’t want to argue. At length, he relented, slung the worn backpack over one shoulder and appeared to be leaving, only to pause by the door. “Come lock up behind me.” “Just lock the knob. The deadbolt is sticking. The locksmith promised to be here today. Hopefully, he’ll swing by in the morning,” she replied, picking up another wreath and heading for the cooler. When she returned, he was gone. A motorcycle revved outside the building and she released a weary sigh. Nice kid, but he needed a girlfriend to worry over instead of her.

12

Reunited

Absently, she wondered why Eric didn’t show the same interest and concern over Marcy. She shook her head against the next thought. He didn’t have a crush on Marcy. By the time the last dustpan of debris was emptied into the trash, it was after two in the morning. Jen turned off the lights and stepped into the alley. She was immediately hit by the heat. The suffocating humidity melted the air-conditioned chill from the shop, leaving a clammy stickiness against her skin. The ever-present smell of the ocean rode a constant breeze traveling from the Outer Banks and across Albemarle Sound. A low melody of crickets and cicadas filled the night with the occasional yellow blinking of lightning bugs. She was suddenly reminded of happier summers. She turned to lock the door but the deadbolt refused to budge. Weariness from the day settled over her as she twisted it once more, cursing the locksmith’s parentage. She leaned into the metal door and the lock scraped into place. “Finally,” she sighed and turned for the SUV. Sweat trickled down her spine and plastered the cotton shirt to her back. She longed to feel the vehicle’s reviving air conditioner and quickly unlocked the door. She couldn’t wait to get home and could already feel the nice warm bath releasing the day’s tension. She’d light a few scented candles, set the jets on high and let the water massage her aching muscles while she sipped a big glass of Burgundy. Each second in the suffocating humidity seemed like an eternity. Stale warm air took her breath as she slid behind the wheel, tossing the purse onto the passenger seat. The backs of her legs stuck to the leather. Jen sighed under the summer night’s assault. She longed to feel the air conditioning blasting against her face. Jabbing the key into the ignition, she turned it. Nothing. Her pulse jumped. “Don’t panic.” She turned the key again. Silence. She tried again but the car wouldn’t start. “Dammit.” She glanced around the dark alley. The night suddenly took on a different feel. A prickly sensation inched up her spine. God, she hated that feeling. Jen pushed her shoulders back and mentally ran over her options. It was only a few blocks to the house but damn if she’d walk past the cemetery to get there. Certainly not at two o’clock in the morning. Even if it was only a childhood memory created by an overactive imagination, she wasn’t going near the graveyard at night. The thought of calling Eric flickered in temptation, but he’d be impossible to work with if given the opportunity to say, “I told you so”. She closed her eyes and relaxed. There was another option but she knew better than to open any door to the past. Even the smallest crack could bring a relapse.

13

Sally Painter

Still, walking home was not an option. She gnawed on her lower lip. Think. Were there other alternatives? She could sleep in the shop. Her body tensed at the thought. She had to go home. Her cats needed to be fed. It was silly to be held hostage by fear. Afraid to walk home. Afraid to evoke the light and start the car—it was dangerous to practice her childhood trick but at that moment the risk seemed worth it. What was the worst that could happen? The engine would start. She could control it this time. She was older and stronger. She could prevent the power from consuming her. “Okay,” she released a ragged breath, “just this once.” Breaking the rules once didn’t mean she’d become lost in delusions again. Her pulse drummed chaotically in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the worrisome thoughts away. Focus. Focus on the light. It required mental strength to push aside years of denial and the wall she’d erected around herself. All she had to do was punch a small hole through the barrier, just enough to let the light through. What if the doctors had been right and there was no light? What if it didn’t work? Self-doubt rushed in. The doctors’ words filled her mind. It’s just your imagination. You can’t really call some kind of white light and bend it to your will. At that moment Jen prayed with all her being they were wrong. She closed her eyes. “I call the light,” she whispered. Suddenly, a pinpoint of light appeared in the darkness behind her closed eyelids. A brilliant shimmer of white followed and gyrated in the distance. Her breathing quickened. How easily it answered her call as though waiting for her summons. The light was so intense against her shuttered eyes, Jen could have sworn it was day instead of the middle of the night. She bowed her head and concentrated on bending the light into a thin stream while imagining it shooting past the ignition key and to the car engine. Taking a deep breath, she released the light and opened her eyes. “Wow.” Her stomach fluttered and she licked dry lips. Doubt pushed through the moment of excitement. It probably wouldn’t work. She’d been seventeen the last time she’d called the light. By that age, Jen was convinced she possessed special powers, but not the power to stop the creatures who tried to enter her bedroom at night. The night terrors became so bad her parents felt they had only one choice left—commit her to a psychiatric hospital. She’d evoked the light and prevented their car from starting. Unfortunately, the dead battery hadn’t stopped them from taking her to the hospital—they’d simply called a cab. Every day for the next year, the doctors told Jen she suffered from delusions. The people she saw phasing in and out as though they were vaporous beings then became solid once more weren’t demons. No one could become invisible. It was all in her mind. And she certainly didn’t have any special powers.

14

Reunited

Jen shook her head. Perhaps. Just perhaps they were wrong. At least about the light. Please let them be wrong. If they weren’t… A chill snaked up her spine at the thought of walking home past the cemetery. Please don’t make me walk home. Jen reached for the key. Her fingers trembled against the metal. She gritted her teeth and turned it. The car engine started. “Yes!” She hit the steering wheel with her hands. “Yes!” A surge of energy tingled in her fingers but she was quick to dismiss it. She hadn’t evoked the light or made the car start. All the things you claim happen because you will them are mere coincidences. You’re ill. Your mind linked those events together to help you cope with your fears. They’re delusions. Her doctor’s voice droned in her mind. You don’t have any magical powers, Jen. Years of programming took over with the well-rehearsed mantras tumbling from her lips. “There’s no such thing as magic. There are no demons. There’s only the real world. Demons aren’t of the real world and belong in fiction,” she whispered, and pushed the worrisome thoughts away. Energy quaked up her arms and down her legs in a soft, seductive whispering. The words were unintelligible but beckoned her to open the door wider. Embrace the light and its power. “No.” She gripped the steering wheel. “It’s not real. It’s all in my mind.” What had she been thinking? She could never do this again. It was dangerous to pretend one time couldn’t destroy all she’d achieved. It was an addiction. She would be lost in the delusion if she embraced the light. Years of hard work had set her free of the power. She could never go back to the hospital. “I didn’t make the car start,” she whispered, willing herself to believe the mantra. She took a slow deep breath and relaxed, finding comfort that it was just a coincidence. The car would have started without her trick. The niggling doubt was contained. She was in control. Jen put the vehicle in drive and guided the SUV down the alley. Main Street yawned wide in front of her as she turned onto it. Yellow flashing lights at the intersections were brilliant strobes in the rearview mirror. She guided the SUV through town and toward the cemetery. Downtown was a mixture of turn-of-the-century architecture merged with antebellum columns and late 1700s handmade bricks. It was all accented by this year’s beautification program of begonias, marigolds and petunias which provided splashes of color tumbling from window boxes and hanging baskets. Memories of her parents were infused with this section of town and she always felt comforted whenever leaving the shop, recalling the good times she’d had with them. Jen drove past the partially lit bakery and her stomach rumbled, reminding her it had been six hours since she’d treated Eric and Marcy to pizza. A hazy blue illuminated the town against a nearly full moon that peeped along the tree line. She knew if she rolled down the window, the ever-present lapping waters of the bay one block over 15

Sally Painter

filled the night. Instead she pressed the gas pedal and the SUV sped up. Ever mindful of the church partially hidden by trees, she glanced at the steeple jutting past the live oaks just a few blocks away. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. It didn’t matter how often she told herself the childhood incident had been pure imagination, the terror of that night still haunted her. Even though she knew it was ridiculous to expect the gargoyles crouched along the roofline of the Catholic Church to come to life, she still looked up at them, holding her breath—waiting. She saw them every day coming to work, yet knowing something wasn’t real didn’t erase the memory of that Halloween night. She’d seen one of them descend the roof and attack a monster in the cemetery. She could still see the grotesque faces and hear the evil snarls in the night. She shivered. The church came into view, cloaked in a pattern of shadows from the lofty oaks. The park and adjacent cemetery were hidden in deeper shades of darkness. Her stomach flip-flopped. Fear chilled her and turned her hands clammy against the steering wheel. How many times had she wished there was an alternate route home? The flashing caution lights ahead seemed to blink faster. A feeling of dread seized her. Years of training on how to cope whenever feeling threatened was useless at the moment. Was it only imagination? Her curse in life? The terror was not an easy thing to wrestle into submission. “Get a grip,” she said, trembling. She didn’t have to look at it. Drive past without a glance. It was just a cemetery and an old church built by a handful of settlers in defiance of the other colonists who embraced a different religion. Her doctors believed the conflict that plagued Averyton’s early start was responsible for her delusions. She had the story as a way to displace her night fears and demonized the events. There was nothing to fear. But her stare was drawn to the cemetery as though metal snagged by a magnet. She tried to pull her gaze away but the looming structures held her in a morbid trance. Out of the depths of shadows rose mausoleums, tall tombstones and statues, all enclosed by a high, wrought iron fence. The sound of her rapid breathing filled the car. She shook her head. The fence was useless. It hadn’t kept the evil in. The memory was still vivid. For a split second Jen felt as though she was standing in front of the massive gate just like that night twenty years ago. She’d run ahead of her parents, leaving them a block away and had slid to a stop outside the cemetery when she’d seen a shadow lurking near one of the tombstones. It had scaled the iron fence and chased her. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and the leather slid beneath her sweaty hands. “This is ridiculous.” She pressed the gas pedal and the SUV picked up speed. She glanced at the grotesque creatures guarding the tombs, poised above the crypt doorways. She flicked her attention back to the statues on the roof. An eerie sensation settled over her. It felt as though the gargoyles were watching her. Jen looked away.

16

Reunited

“Dammit, they’re just stone,” she reminded herself. Yet the compulsion to glance back one last time tugged her stare back to the cemetery. The statues contorted and shadows shifted from the stones. Her pulse quickened. Jen lifted her foot from the gas pedal. The SUV slowed down. It wasn’t possible. She peered through the door window, her pulse pounding so hard in her chest she felt it would rip from her. It was an illusion of light and darkness, yet… She watched a statue by the iron fence unfold from a crouching position. The cemetery became a mass of moving shadows. Just like that night— She screamed and stomped the gas pedal to the floorboard. The SUV zoomed down the street alongside the graveyard.

17

Sally Painter

Chapter Two Garrett balanced on the wall and brought his wings down in a powerful stroke. He sailed into flight. The broad fanning of his wings made a whooshing sound that traveled over the cemetery. He watched his shadow move like a dark wave rolling over the graves. “Gargoyle!” a frightened voice rang out followed by several more shouts. Sinister figures scurried from hiding places and ran toward the locked gate. They clambered over it and tumbled to the sidewalk on top of each other. “Run!” came a shout and the group scrambled to their feet. They stumbled in a clumsy escape across the street. “Hurry!” One of the creatures looked over his shoulder in Garrett’s direction before scuttling up the side of the building after his companions. Garrett considered the ones lagging behind just a few yards away and decided to take them out first. With both wings behind his back, he swooped down with clawlike hands closing around the demon’s arm. “Let me go!” the creature yelled. Resisting the temptation, Garrett lifted from the cemetery floor with the flailing creature dangling beneath him. With a fast wing thrust, he pumped up and down to catch the warm currents blowing off the bay. He separated the feathertips to form slots and trapped the wind rippling over his wings in an airfoil. He soared over the treetops with the demon cursing and screaming. “Fucking freak! Let me go, gargoyle!” The creature spat the word as though it tasted foul in his mouth. Garrett glared down at his prey. The moon cast a gray wash over the disfigured face—broad forehead and temple nubs of emerging horns that began to grow as they ascended beyond the shadows and into the moonlight. The demon snarled, revealing sharp pointed teeth. “Ugly bastard!” Garrett maintained a steady ascent. “Put me down,” the demon spat. Garrett could hear its heart pounding harder. The scent of fear prickled his nostrils and excited him. It was a primal instinct that demanded he drop the creature to its death. This was what he’d been created to do, not hunt for the Reconciler. Ridding the world of demons was the only reason he’d been placed upon the earth but now it was secondary. An afterthought to his nightly mission. “Let me go!” the demon’s voice grew strained and shook with fear.

18

Reunited

He knew how terrified demons were of heights—he frowned―like they once were of gargoyles. “Who’s your Assassin Leader?” he demanded and shook the demon, loosening his grip as though to drop it. “Go fuck yourself.” “Wrong answer.” Garrett released the monster. It screamed, arms and legs flailing in the air as it tumbled toward the harsh edge of a crypt. Garrett held his breath in anticipation then groaned, reluctant to save the monster but he needed information. Holding his wings close to his body, he dived for the demon and grabbed it by the shoulder just before it crashed into the crypt. Once more he carried it above the trees. “Damn you. What the hell are you doing? Your kind never bothers us anymore.” “Wrong.” He let go and the demon plummeted through the air again with a terrified scream. Again, Garrett flew after it and rescued the demon just in time. “Stop! Stop. I’ll tell you what you want to know,” the creature cried. “Who are you waiting for?” Garrett held the grotesque hellion by one arm, flying from the ground to suspend it over a granite monolith. “Tell me why you’re here, demon,” he spoke between clenched teeth. He hated interrogating demons. They were so dense it took a long time to break them. “Why do you care, gargoyle? None of your kind has given a shit about protecting humans for over a century. So why you?” “It’s my job.” “Your job? Damn, where have you been? There’s no more job for you. Gargoyles are just a bunch of freaks nowadays,” the demon spat. Its venom splattered over Garrett’s face. The nasty slime stung and burned his flesh like acid. “Now look what you did to yourself.” Garrett glared down at the monster and released it to wipe the putrid-smelling gunk from his face. The demon cried out and grabbed for him, clutching at his leg. Garrett slung the venom from his hand and the poisonous phlegm fell into the demon’s eyes. It yelled and released Garrett’s leg to dig the toxic slime from its eyes. He watched the creature fall and smiled when it crashed into the crypt roof, striking the corner marker. Its broken body glowed and then liquefied. Demon blood ran down the sides of the crypt and pooled on the ground. It began to sizzle with steam rising from the remains, and then it ignited in a brilliant burst of flames and quickly extinguished. The smell of burned hair and sulfur wafted from the ground and Garrett’s body tensed. His senses heightened from the scent of his kill and he turned into the wind, allowing it to carry him over the graveyard. He lowered one wing and circled toward the front gate to descend unnoticed in the tree. He perched on an overhanging limb and searched for the other demons still in the cemetery. He spied one by the fence hedge only a few feet away. Those who’d escaped and taken up new positions across the street still clung to the side of the building. He

19

Sally Painter

watched a demon dig its claws into the brick building and climb onto the roof. It crouched along the edge, imitating a gargoyle. Garrett clenched his jaw, infuriated by the demon’s mocking pose. It may have run from him, but the ancient terror demons had once felt when faced with a gargoyle was gone. There’d been a time when all he had to do was appear in front of a demon and the creature would retreat in horror. Rage roared through him like wildfire. Accustomed to taking control of situations, he couldn’t accept the gargoyle race was on a decline, never to recapture its former glory. Yet even in his sudden despair one last hope glimmered—the Reconciler. He scowled at the demon crouched by the fence. And if these vile creatures intended to kidnap her tonight then he would be the reason they failed. He’d kill them all. He knew demon assassins were a single-minded lot. Once a mission was underway, they’d see it to the end even if defeat was inevitable. Their compulsive nature was their biggest flaw. Garrett jerked around in time to see headlights flash from an alley several blocks away as a vehicle turned onto Main Street and headed in their direction. “Here she comes!” a whisper floated across the street. “There’s a gargoyle here. It got Bruno.” “Gargoyles ain’t bothered us in years. He’s just having some fun.” “I’m not sticking around to be a victim of his fun,” the voice rasped. “Tracker will have your balls for breakfast if you run out on this mission.” Garrett froze at the mention of the name. “He’ll have to find me first.” The voice cut off followed by the sound of running footfalls. Garrett’s chest tightened. Of all the Assassin Leaders, Tracker was the fiercest and most ambitious. He’d long vied for the king’s throne and while information was sketchy, Garrett knew Tracker was forming an army. This pack belonged to him. Tracker’s success hinged on capturing the Reconciler. The only way he could gain the real power he craved was to kill the Reconciler in an ancient ritual. “Get back here!” came an order followed by the sound of running footfalls. “You damn traitor.” Garrett and the Clisneach Guard, or rather what remained of the guard, hunted Tracker but he always managed to escape. If the Clisneach had to face an organized army of demons… Garrett shook his head. It would be impossible odds with only a hundred or so loyal gargoyles remaining and over two thousand infected rogues, some aligned with demons, while others had no specific agenda other than pleasure seeking. The sound of the approaching vehicle drew his attention. It slowed down, still several blocks away. Garrett leaped from the limb, using his wings to land behind the demon by the gate.

20

Reunited

“You should have joined your friend and run away,” Garrett said and glared down at the creature. The demon spun around and its eyes widened on Garrett standing over it. “Oh shit,” the demon wheezed. Garrett grabbed its head and twisted. The sound of breaking bones was followed by its body going limp. He released the creature and stepped back. The body fell to the ground and liquefied then burst into flames. A scream sounded behind Garrett and he lifted from the ground just as another hellion swung a sword at him. The heavy steel swooshed underneath him, just barely missing his feet. It ricocheted off a stone monument and bounced back into the demon, severing the head from its body. “Damn.” Garrett winced at the accidental suicide. Flames burst beneath him. “Gargoyle!” a cry echoed across the street. “He’s attacking!” Only four left and one deserter who might rethink his rash retreat and return to fight. The air suddenly charged with electricity, making him aware of the slightest movement in the night. Leaves rustled overhead as the wind stirred past, carrying every labored breath and mumbled oath of his enemies to his ears. He sniffed the air. The demon stench filled his head, sparking the predator inside him. Once more instinct took over, tensing every muscle in his body with an excited surge of energy. He braced against the adrenaline rush followed by the mandate it brought with it. Kill! He glanced at the vehicle then back to the demons. Everything moved in slow motion. His face tightened and transformed into his gargoyle form of half-man and half-panther. Strong, savage—a hunter. The thin flesh around his eyes stretched and he knew they reshaped into a catlike slant. A glint of steel reflected from the roof across the street. The demon, crouched along the ledge, prepared to leap onto the SUV when it passed. “Son of a bitch,” Garrett growled and flew over the fence and across the street. The demon saw him and leaped from the roof. It landed in a heavy thud on the sidewalk in front of him, braced to fight. Garrett dived toward it but the creature dodged him, growling and swinging the blade. Tilting his wings, Garrett swung around just as the SUV barreled up the street. The demon flashed a wicked grin at him and lunged for the vehicle. Garrett leaped after it and tackled it midair, grabbing the demon’s wrist so it couldn’t use the sword. It growled and fought him but Garrett forced it to drop the sword. The metal clattered onto the street. The demon cried out when they slammed into the side of the SUV. Air rushed from Garrett’s lungs and a piercing pain shot through his shoulder as they bounced over the top of the vehicle, grazing the roof. The demon clawed at him as they scraped the top of the cemetery fence. He glanced over his shoulder. The impact had sent the vehicle into a skid.

21

Sally Painter

“Get off me,” he huffed, clutching the demon by the scruff of its neck. Garrett attempted to stretch his wings to flight but crashed into a statue. His grip on the hellion slipped. The marble angel crumbled underneath the force and he fell onto jagged chunks of stone, groaning and rolling onto his side. The demon catapulted into a crypt a few feet away. The concrete wall cracked under the force and the creature slumped to the ground. Garrett was on his feet and making his way to the demon. He dragged it from the ground and slammed his fist into the ugly face. He held it by the collar and reared back for the final punch when the demon struck first. The force sent Garrett backward but he didn’t release the creature. They bashed into a granite headstone and it gave under the force, breaking in two. Garrett rolled to the ground. Shaking his head, he groaned but quickly recovered and was on his feet, ready to fight. He glanced in the direction of the street. The SUV was out of control and on a collision course with the cemetery wall. A woman’s scream from inside the car split the night. Reconciler! “No!” he growled. He must save her. The demon charged and Garrett leaped over him, turning around in time to grab its head. It cried out when he twisted the thick neck and the demon burst into flames. Pumping his arms and legs, Garrett sprinted over the headstones but realized he needed more speed if he was going to stop the SUV. He stretched his wings just as a sudden wind breezed through the iron fence and gave him lift. Another demon jumped from a nearby building and landed on top of the vehicle. Lifting a sword high above its head with both hands around the hilt, it prepared to drive the steel into the roof and through the driver. “No!” Garrett plowed into the monster, sending both of them into the building across the street. The impact was so hard, bricks caved in around the flattened demon. It flamed before Garrett could pull away and fire singed his feathertips. Wicked pain shot through him. He roared under the burning streaks assaulting his body yet didn’t break his pace. Arching his wings above his head, he brought them down in a swift motion and was airborne again. He closed the distance between the SUV and him. Another hellion scurried over the side of the building, trying to catch up with the vehicle, but Garrett pivoted in a fast maneuver and plucked it from the wall. The creature clawed at the building, taking chucks of brick with it. “You can’t keep us from her!” it snarled and he threw it against the wall, not waiting to see it splatter onto the street. Instead, he flew after the vehicle. He knew if the SUV jumped over the curb onto the sidewalk, judging by its current course, the impact would be on the driver’s side. Another scream tore from the woman. Garrett rocketed toward the vehicle, pumping his wings until he was close enough to stretch out his hand and latch onto the rear bumper. He closed his fingers around it while expanding his wings in a powerful arch, fluttering and pulling backward. He 22

Reunited

summoned his gargoyle strength and planted his feet firmly on the pavement. With a fierce growl, he reared back. The tires screeched against the pavement, sending up clouds of smoke from burning rubber. The vehicle lurched forward and jumped over the curb. He gauged the distance to the stone column along the fence corner. He needed to stop the SUV long enough to turn off the engine. Slowly, Garrett allowed the SUV to inch toward the column. His muscle ached under the strain but he managed to keep the vehicle from plowing into the stone. The tires dug up grass and dirt, slinging it past him until the SUV crept closer and at last nudged the column. He released his grip and hurried to turn off the engine. “You’re going to be okay,” came a deep sexy voice, and for a moment Jen thought she was dreaming. Had she fainted? She rubbed the pounding in her temple and blinked, surprised to find the door open and someone unbuckling her seat belt. “What?” she moaned, trying to understand what had happened. Where was she? Everything was blurred so she closed her eyes until something pulled her from the SUV. Her eyes flew open. The night was hazy and instantly she was transported back to that Halloween night. A scream tore from her throat. Claws lashed out. She pounded her fists into the creature’s bare chest, struggling from it, but the tall, menacing shadow was like a hard wall against the blows. Its grip loosened and she spun away, running down the street. Steel talons bit into her shoulder and Jen tried to jerk free. Her heart beat so hard it felt as if it would burst from her chest. Her knees weakened. Another scream bubbled to her lips just as the creature turned her around. She sucked in air. Her mind rejected what she saw. It wasn’t a monster. The handsome face frowning down at her broke into a tense smile. Jen stopped struggling when she looked into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. “Let go,” she said, noticing the man wore dark slacks and no shirt. His broad chest and sculpted six-pack glistened with sweat. She wasn’t aware how her knee actually found its mark, until he doubled over in a painful groan. She pivoted to escape but strong fingers clamped around her wrist. “I’m trying to help you,” he wheezed and straightened. “I don’t need your help. Get off me.” She jerked against his steel-like grip, hitting him with her free hand. “Do you want them to kill you?” he asked, grabbing her other wrist. Jen froze in an attempt to kick his shin. “What did you say?” she asked, completely taken aback. “They’ll be back. I know how they work. They’ll regroup and come back for you. I killed the ones waiting for you in the cemetery but one ran off before the attack. They

23

Sally Painter

won’t give up. You’ve been marked. Demons don’t stop until they either kidnap or kill their marks.” “D-Demons?” she panted. Her ears rang and his face darkened just before the world faded from her. Garrett gazed down at the woman in his arms, finding it impossible to believe he was holding the Reconciler. He’d found her! Just in time too. Her aura bore a demon’s mark. She’d been recently tagged as a target, judging by the intensity of the reddish haze radiating off her. How long had they known about her? His mind crowded with questions but the sudden whiff of her scent, a seductive mixture of earth and flowers, encircled him like wispy tendrils, numbing all thought. He drew the sweet fragrance in through his nostrils and electric currents zinged through him. What was that? Taut muscles flinched and his heart drummed a new rhythm. A strange and perplexing beat that matched the anxious quaking in him. The sensation spiraled to his gut, twisting until it wound tight like a corkscrew and then released in a powerful surge of need. Primal. Urgent. “What the fuck?” he panted, looking down at the woman still cradled in his arms. Full rosy lips parted and a soft moan rushed between them. He raked his tongue over his lips, imagining how she would taste. Just a slight touch of his lips to hers… He held her closer against his bare chest. Sweat trickled down his back. Garrett shook his head as though he could disentangle himself from the seductive spell but his mind filled with the image of her naked body writhing beneath him. He’d never experienced such a compulsion. His mind raced with possible reasons for the emergence of such a highly charged energy and then a fearful thought struck him. He’d heard of overwhelming urges taking control when a gargoyle was in the first stage of mutation. Infected gargoyles claimed to be victimized by their inner natures, no longer in control of their free will. This couldn’t be happening to him. He couldn’t mutate. Not now. Not when he’d finally found their salvation. He looked down at the Reconciler. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel. He groaned. Heat pooled in his groin and his cock throbbed. The gargoyle nature was one of discipline, Garrett reminded himself. He was a trained warrior, able to control all desires, especially any unwanted reactions, yet at that moment he didn’t feel in control. The desire wouldn’t abate. In fact it stretched against the fraying threads of self-control. “I won’t be defeated. Not by a primal instinct to mate a human. Not after all the battles I’ve fought against demons.” Resolve was quickly supplanted by impulse and his feverish mind clouded as he looked down at her. God, she was so beautiful. She had a warrior’s physique, toned and

24

Reunited

firm, yet at that moment she was every inch of feminine softness. Gentle curves pressed into him as she lay unconscious in his arms, seducing him with the forbidden. “Sweet paradise! I won’t allow this to happen,” he rasped and willed the arousal away. The energy relented and twisted to his belly, churning into a hard knot. Licking his lips, Garrett studied the goddess cradled in his arms. Ethereal and irresistible. Moonlight bathed her face, tracing long dark curls that cascaded over his arm. His fingers trembled. He needed to caress the shimmering fall…no, what he needed was to sink his cock deep inside her warmth and find release. Mercy! Was there no mercy? Not for mutants. A feeling of hopelessness settled in his gut. None for him. “I’m not a fucking mutant,” he growled. There must be another explanation for what just happened. Something he was overlooking. Her perfume filled his nostrils and Garrett frowned at the oval face, so perfectly formed… Realization struck him. The emergence of his baser self must be because of her. It wasn’t the virus. Somehow— Maybe it was a special power she held as the Reconciler. If it could do this to him, what would it do to gargoyles weakened by the virus? It would mean chaos not salvation. Garrett squinted. It couldn’t be her. He knew the Legend inside and out. Nowhere did it mention the Reconciler having this kind of power over gargoyles or that her scent was an aphrodisiac. His stare traced the slender column of her neck to the front of her blouse. Full breasts rose high above the first button, luring his gaze to dip beneath the material in search of rosy tips. The imagery shot liquid fire to his groin, pooling at the very tip of his cock. Pre-cum leaked past his attempt to stop his body’s response to her as the feral instinct seized him. He clamped his mouth shut, straining to control the surge of power coiling tighter and tighter in his gut, threatening to break free. He tensed his body against the force but it raced up his throat, clawing against his clamped jaw. A low groan vibrated against his teeth, curling his upper lip into a snarl. Neck muscles constricted and his head fell back as the building pressure pried open his mouth. A fierce roar burst from him, echoing into the night and startling nearby dogs into frightened yelps. “Son of a bitch,” he wheezed and gulped for air. “I have to get out of here.” Car. Go to the car. Garrett forced his feet to take a step forward. One foot in front of the other. He carried her back to the SUV and opened the passenger door where he lowered her into the seat. He paused, staring down at her, longing to touch her face. He reached over to buckle the seat belt around her. As he straightened, his hand brushed one of her breasts. He froze. It had been a simple touch, yet every cell in his body sparked to life. Strong nails dug into the flesh of his palm as he tightened his hand into a sweaty fist. The hot night air pressed down on 25

Sally Painter

him, offering no relief for his fevered flesh. Visions of her lying naked in his arms with legs spread wide for him, revealing tender flesh, pink and moist… He swallowed past the dryness in his throat. Raw nerve endings ached with the need to feel his cock scrape past the velvety folds of her pussy and plunge deep inside her. He shook his head and shoved away from her. This must stop. He pounded his fists hard into his chest but the pain from the blows didn’t break the spell. The hunger consumed him. Garrett knew if he remained there any longer, he’d lose this battle for his selfcontrol. He slammed the car door shut and hurried around the front of the vehicle but glanced at her through the windshield. By all that was holy, he wanted to throw open the door, steal her from the vehicle, and disappear into the night with his prize. His mind raced. He must think about something else. Demons. Shit, he had to get her out of there. They would return with reinforcements. His legs shook as he walked around to the driver’s side. “What the fuck is happening?” he breathed. Mating with humans hadn’t been allowed ever since the first infected gargoyle turned rogue. His mouth dried. Hell, mating with the Reconciler would be the greatest transgression he could commit. He’d be exiled and placed between the seven heavens, suspended in time for all eternity. And the Council could do all that without a hearing. Even his high rank in the Clisneach Guard wouldn’t save him from the Sgaith Council’s powerful wrath. He glanced at her. Never in his right mind would he contemplate mating with a human. So why was he a rutting stag all of a sudden? All instincts, even reason, threatened to desert him. He leaned into the car door and looked up, mentally pleading for divine intervention. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned his first meeting with the Reconciler. There was no defense against his body’s betrayal so he must find a way to suppress his libido long enough to get her to safety then everything would be okay. Garrett climbed in behind the steering wheel and glanced over at her. He should just fly. Leave the car and— The last thing he needed was the local authorities finding her car abandoned and her missing. He would drive her home. That was the best plan. Garrett stared at her, letting his gaze travel where his hands should be caressing— “Focus on the mission.” He closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Fate was proving to be a cruel master. He’d at long last found his target only to have the victory turn into this…this… His thoughts shot back to earlier fears. What if his reaction was unrelated to the Reconciler’s power? “Fucking virus.” He gritted his teeth. God, he was lost. There was no controlling the virus. Others claimed they’d tried and failed. Wait. His mind raced. He didn’t have the other symptoms—yet. He wasn’t uncaring or selfish. He hadn’t abandoned his sacred duty. Hell, he’d come to the cemetery with true purpose in his heart and still embraced all those things only a Pure

26

Reunited

gargoyle coveted. So enough of this self-doubt. He’d performed his duty and at long last found the Reconciler. Now he must protect her. So why was he just sitting there? Garrett mentally shook himself. First objective—gather information and get her to safety. He reached for the purse lying on the floor. There should be a driver’s license inside. A niggling thought interrupted. The transformation was a gradual process that ebbed and receded. That was the reason it struck such fear in his kind. It was a silent disease that seated itself deep inside and gradually worked its way outward. The virus stripped away one ability after another until it transformed what made gargoyles vigilant warriors and defenders of humans into something no longer recognizable. Garrett shook his head. License. He rummaged through the purse until he found the plastic card. His hand shook so badly he had to grasp it with his other one to steady it enough to read her name. “Jen Ormand.” He angled it so the streetlight illuminated the photo. Round brown eyes stared back at him. They seemed to hold the secrets he so desperately sought. Swallowing the burning knot in his throat, Garrett forced his stare away from the picture to the address. “500 South Williams Historic.” He glanced from the license to her and quickly regretted it. As though captured by an invisible force, his stare was drawn past her face and to the gaping blouse again. Heat prickled into sweat above his upper lip. Scenes of ripping the blouse from her shifted into vignettes of him fucking her. “Son of a bitch!” He fumbled with the key in the ignition until it turned and the engine started. He clenched his jaw. By all that was holy, his dick was so hard he knew the slightest touch from her would make him come. Sweet release. He squinted. Demons. The word acted as a dousing of cold water. “Fuck this.” He shoved the gearshift into reverse and backed off the curb. Throwing it into drive, he stomped on the gas pedal and the SUV peeled down the street, heading out of town. He was thinking clearer now and realized he couldn’t take her home. The demons probably knew everything about her. He sniffed. Within the close confines of the car her scent grew pungent. Its sultry aroma wrapped around him, slipping against his body like a lover curling into an embrace. He glanced over at her. Rosy lips, full and plump, beckoned him. Just one kiss. He looked away and banged his head back against the headrest, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Save and protect,” he repeated over and over under his breath. Staring at the road, he focused on how the headlights shone on the pavement. Suddenly, the image of her sweet little ass tilted up at him flashed through his mind. God, he had to do something to take his mind off her. Digging in his pants pocket, he retrieved the cell phone and speed-dialed the one gargoyle who could help. “Where are you?” his sister’s voice droned in his ear. 27

Sally Painter

“Bel,” his voice cracked. “Garrett? Are you all right? You sound terrible. Are you hurt?” “I’m okay. Hell no, I’m not okay. I need your help. I’m—” His bare back stuck to the leather seat and he released the steering wheel long enough to flip the air conditioner on. Cold air blasted him. Yeah, that was better. He took a deep breath. “Garrett, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” “I found her, Bel. The Reconciler,” he rasped. “Oh my God! No way!” Bel screamed. “Where? What does she look like? Have you talked to her? I just can’t believe it!” Her scream pierced his ear, momentarily breaking the spell. “What’s she like?” “She’s—” He glanced down at the oval face framed by curly dark hair. “She’s—” Oh sweet heaven, just talking about her made his cock throb. “What’s wrong?” Bel asked. “Are you still there?” “Yeah,” he breathed. “What’s going on? Where is she?” “With me. There was an ambush. Demons.” “Is she hurt?” “No. I killed them but one got away. They’ll be back. How do I get to our new house?” It would not be soon enough. Once he got home, things would settle down. He’d regain control. “You’re bringing her here? Do you think that’s wise?” Bel’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “We have to protect her.” Garrett was not about to get into an argument over the pros and cons of keeping the Reconciler in their home. “Of course we do. It’s just that the Legend says she has to discover her destiny by herself, otherwise—” “I know what the Legend says, Bel,” he clipped, knowing his irritation had nothing to do with his sister. He glanced over at Jen Ormand. “The luxury of self-discovery was destroyed when demons attacked her tonight. Look, we’ll work it out. Right now I have to get her someplace safe. That means our house.” “Do you really think it’s her, Garrett? I mean, really?” The hope in Bel’s voice was the same he’d felt perched on the wall in the cemetery. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s absolutely no question.” Bel squealed so loudly he had to hold the phone away from his ear. “I can’t believe it! Oh my God. After all this time. Oh, I baked a cheesecake this morning so we can test her.” “There’s no need, Bel. She’s the one. She’ll be able to eat the whole damn cake and not get sick.” Bel and her stupid cheesecake test. “I just can’t believe this!” she squealed again. 28

Reunited

“Bel, I need directions, I’m almost out of town.” “It’s easy. We’re in an older, undeveloped section outside of town, just across the bay. Take Main all the way out until you get to a sandy road named Gilburn. Oh my God, I can’t believe you found the Reconciler!” It took a few minutes for Bel to calm down enough to give him the rest of the directions. Ending the call, Garrett felt he’d regained some composure, until he looked down at Jen Ormand again.

29

Sally Painter

Chapter Three Turning out of town, Garrett guided the vehicle south onto a sandy road. The moon gave an eerie overcast to the night as he drove through the marsh. He hated moonlit nights because of the power they bestowed his enemies, but glancing at his passenger, he was suddenly grateful for the light. His stare traced the curve of her oval face. Flawless skin. Unable to resist, he reached over and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. Satiny flesh caressed him. The contact set his body on fire and a deep groan forced his lips apart. Just one touch and he was once more lost to desire. It stormed through him, mindless…demanding. There was no stopping it. He lifted a strand of hair and rolled the silky tress between his fingers. There could be no touching. He jerked from her and grasped the steering wheel. She was the Reconciler. He was her sworn Protector. He could never have her. Never. The headlights flashed over a sign, Cummins Cove, and he turned the SUV onto a sandy road bordered with high grasses and sea oats. A line of pine trees rose tall and dark in the distance. He was almost at the house Bel had rented for them. The road was full of ruts and jostled his passenger about. She stirred yet didn’t awaken. Garrett lifted his foot off the accelerator and the SUV slowed to a crawl. He didn’t want to startle her awake before they got to the house. He needed his sister’s strength to keep him grounded in the Reconciler’s presence. He shot a worried glance down the road. The warm glow of lights flickered through the swaying sea grasses and he glimpsed the beach-style stilt house. Relief washed over him like a long drink of water on a hot summer day. He guided the vehicle into the driveway. The house was alive with brilliant lights. Large windows revealed the interior and he saw his sister running through the house toward the screen porch. Sand ground underneath the tires as he brought the SUV to a stop only a few feet from the staircase leading to the second floor porch. “Garrett!” Bel waved, letting the screen door bang shut behind her. Wearing pink shorts and a floral t-shirt, she bounded down the steps, long blonde hair fluttering out behind her. Jen stirred in the seat and Garrett turned to her. “Don’t panic. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.” He attempted to reassure her in what he hoped was a comforting tone of voice. “What’s going on?” She blinked. “Where am I?” She rubbed her temple and stiffened as though becoming fully aware of her circumstances. “Who are you? Why are you driving my car?” Panic shook her voice as she fumbled with the seat belt. Before he 30

Reunited

could move to stop her, she threw open the passenger door and stumbled from the SUV. Garrett got out of the vehicle and shut the door, watching Jen back away from him. Moonlight fell over her face, revealing eyes widened in confusion and fear. “Is that her?” Bel slowed to a cautious walk and trod barefoot over the sandy drive. “What?” The Reconciler looked about as though seeking an avenue of escape. “You kidnapped me!” “Is she serious?” Bel laughed. “Yeah, I think so,” Garrett said and Bel’s laughter choked off. He stared at the woman while moving slowly around the vehicle with his hands lifted in front of him. She reminded him of a frightened deer and he worried she’d run away if he made any sudden moves. “Oh, for crying out loud. Why would my brother kidnap you? You should be thanking him for saving you.” Bel took a step toward her. Garrett watched the woman back away from them. Her wide-eyed stare bounced from Bel to him. “We’re the good guys, babe.” Bel halted in front of the disoriented woman, propping her hands on slender hips. “My brother saved you.” “Saved me?” She shook her head. “If it weren’t for Garrett, you’d be sizzling over a fire somewhere in the swamps with a bunch of demons celebrating their victory.” “What?” she panted. “Bel.” Garrett grabbed his sister’s arm, wanting to slap his hand over her big mouth. “You’re not helping.” He released her and took a step toward the Reconciler. “Stay back.” She held her hands in front of her, bracing her feet apart in a defensive stance. Her long dark hair lifted in the breeze, exposing narrow shoulders. The vision she struck was mesmerizing. All thoughts fled, leaving only her. Tightening his hands into fists by his sides, Garrett prepared to battle the resurging lust. This time it wouldn’t take him by surprise. “I thought you said she was a warrior.” Bel clicked her tongue. His sister’s voice momentarily shattered the spell binding him to the Reconciler and Garrett drew a ragged breath. He glanced back at Bel, who was now leaning against the SUV with arms folded over her chest. “Looks to me like she might know a little martial arts, but I’m not picking up much soldier energy. Are you sure you got the right woman?” “Shut up, Bel. It’s her. The scent is undeniable.” Bel tilted her head and sniffed.

31

Sally Painter

Garrett shoved his hands into his pockets in a desperate attempt to hide his erection. He must maintain control. Bel would freak if she knew what was really going on with him. “Don’t think for one moment I can’t defend myself,” the young woman huffed. “I don’t have any doubt about your ability to bring a man to his knees, Jen Ormand.” Garrett smiled slightly, recalling the painful introduction to her trained reflexes. Her stare shot to his groin and then flashed away. So she remembered that much. Had she noticed the bulge in his pants? He watched the emotions move over her face. “How do you know my name?” She glanced about as though searching for the quickest escape route. Worried she was about to take flight, he stepped toward her. “Stay away from me,” she said, backing away from him. He stopped. “Don’t be afraid, Jen. We’re trying to help you,” he said. Of course, if he wanted to take her captive, she couldn’t prevent him. Or could she? He tried to recall if the Legend mentioned the Reconciler being more powerful than her Protector. “I asked how you know my name.” She looked past him to Bel. Fear flashed over her eyes. Her breasts rose higher and tugged against the thin cotton shirt. Garrett cleared his throat and glanced away, trying to focus on something mundane to ease the throbbing in his cock. “We just want to help,” Bel said, sniffing several times. “You’re right, Brother. She is the one.” Bel unfolded her arms and moved as if to rush over to the woman but Garrett lifted his hand and she paused. His sister’s validation empowered him. To know they’d found the Reconciler, someone he’d begun to doubt even existed, was exhilarating. Relief assuaged all earlier worries. With renewed confidence, Garrett felt he could trust his senses, in spite of his reaction to the Reconciler. He wasn’t infected after all. “I’m going to get in my car now and leave. Don’t either of you try to stop me.” Her frightened voice jerked Garrett from his thoughts. Great, now he had to keep the Reconciler from running back to town where the demons were waiting. “Just calm down and let me explain,” he said. “You kidnapped me!” she shouted. “I don’t want any explanations.” “I saved you from demons,” he yelled back but regretted it when the fear in her eyes transformed into panic. Disbelief played over her face. God, did she have any idea just how gorgeous she was? Garrett mentally shook himself. He had to find a way to win her trust.

32

Reunited

“Do you remember the attack?” he asked, deciding it was better to just stay where he was for the time being, otherwise she might dart into the woods. Chasing her down was not the way to prove good intentions. “What do you recall? Do you remember your car spinning out of control when the demons attacked? Maybe you hit your head. You might have a concussion.” “Attacked?” She squinted and looked as though she was trying to remember. “Yeah, in town, just a few minutes ago. You were driving and—” “Something hit my car,” she said, rubbing her temple. “It came out of nowhere and—” “That would have been me.” Garrett shrugged. “Me and the demon I tackled.” Her stare widened on him. “Demon?” She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like a chant. Suddenly, Garrett recalled the Legend stated she was trained all her life to deny the things she saw. Perhaps she was reciting a prayer. “Look, I know you’ve been told demons don’t exist but they do.” Garrett felt incompetent. His heart hammered in his chest and he glanced at Bel to see if the Reconciler was having any affect on his sister. “What?” Bel asked, raising her eyebrows. He heard the sharp intake of breath and turned back to Jen. Breaking the defensive pose, she bent down to slap at her ankle. “Yeah, this place is swarming with mosquitoes. Biggest bloodsuckers I’ve ever seen—in the insect world that is,” Bel grinned. “Come on in, babe. I just made some fresh coffee. If you’re real nice I’ll give you a slice of my famous cheesecake. Made it this morning.” She winked at Garrett. He knew Bel couldn’t wait to see if Jen could stomach the cheesecake. It contained special herbs that only gargoyles or the Reconciler could digest. If Jen Ormand passed the test then Bel would try the exotic tequila just for additional verification. Bel turned for the house. Garrett was relieved to see her go so he could reason with Jen without his sister’s impatient interruptions. “We have a lot to talk about,” he said. “The demons may have followed us. You’d be safer inside.” He watched the emotions play over her face. According to Legend she should be able to recognize demons disguised as humans just like he could. “Demons?” Her voice sounded small and uncertain. She shifted in place. “As a child, you saw monsters but no one believed you.” She stiffened and he rushed to explain. “They believed you were…insane.” He winced at the word, but he was quoting the Legend and she needed to hear it. “I’m probably the first one to ever validate for you that demons do exist.” He sensed her nervous energy as his own. One wrong move and she’d slip over the edge of panic. Judging by the spurts of colors shooting from her aura, the tight rein she held on her composure was slipping.

33

Sally Painter

“How do you…” her voice trailed off and she glanced over her shoulder. She was going to run if he didn’t say something fast to convince her. “I don’t know how you survived. You must have lived with incredible mental anguish―seeing demons yet being told they weren’t real. And the doctors trained you, hell, they probably convinced you it was all in your mind.” She jerked around, staring at him as though she could see inside him. If she could, then she’d see how his heart ached to heal her suffering. “You became unable to depend on your own instincts because the doctors made you dependent upon them. Spoon-feeding reality to you until you accepted what they said.” He could hear her heartbeat quicken and longed to take her in his arms and kiss away the damage done to her. Instead he tried to think of the words she needed to hear. “The creatures that attacked you tonight were demons, Jen.” “The ones my brother killed to save you,” Bel called from the porch but ducked inside, slamming the door before he could reprimand her. “Why are you doing this to me?” Jen’s voice trembled. “I’m trying to help you see the truth. Just hear me out. You can leave any time you want. Can you do that?” She didn’t respond. “Look, I daresay the demons attacked you before. Probably when you were a child, but you were protected. Right? They came close but were stopped or something frightened them away, like a cat.” “W-What?” she asked, shaking her head. “They won’t stop coming after you. Tonight was just the beginning.” “No. You’re lying. I’ve been home for months and no one…” Her face tensed into a disbelieving glare. “It’s all about timing.” He wasn’t getting to her and decided to change his tactics. “Look, I fight demons. That’s all I do. I’ve been fighting them ever since I can remember. Just let me help you. Stay and hear the truth for the first time in your life.” She still didn’t respond. “Do you think your parents’ deaths were an accident?” “My parents?” her voice choked off. “The demons knew it was the only way to flush you out of hiding. If you leave they’ll be waiting for you, maybe in town or at your house and I won’t be there to save you.” He lied. Of course he’d be there. If she left, he’d perch outside her house and protect her. He turned his back to her. It was a risk but insisting she come inside only seemed to heighten her distrust. He climbed the steps, sensing her stare on his back.

34

Reunited

“You’re lying. My parents died in an accident. Why would you say such an evil thing?” Jen watched the man walk up the steps to the screen porch. Guilt pumped through her. Had her parents died because of her? Tears blurred her vision as she watched him open the screen door and pause to glance back at her. “Come inside and I’ll explain.” The light from the house stretched across the porch, casting him in a golden radiance. There was an energy emanating from him that didn’t fit his calm mannerisms. The kind she was accustomed to sensing when a man was aroused. How could he be aroused under these conditions? Could he be a demon? Her heart raced. Impossible. He didn’t phase in and out with jerky movements. Besides there were no such things as demons. Yet…how did he know about them? About her? Taking a step closer to the SUV, she judged the distance between it and where he stood at the top of the steps, still holding the door open—waiting. Were the keys inside the SUV? She tried to gauge if she had time to jump inside and start the engine before he could run down the steps to stop her. She slapped at the mosquitoes biting her ankles. If she could inch around the car without him being aware of what she was doing then she could jump inside and lock the doors before he reached her. Jen moved around the vehicle but halted. Was it a trick of shadows or was the side caved in as if something had actually rammed into it? She noticed another large dent in the roof. “What happened…” Her voice trailed off as she walked around the rear to inspect the damage. “Like I said, I slammed into a demon. We were thrown over the top of your SUV,” he said. “I hope you have insurance.” Jen glanced up at him then back at the crumpled metal. The scene of driving past the cemetery flashed through her mind. There’d been a loud noise. A jolt. Something had crashed into the SUV and she’d lost control. Flickers of shadows in the night…bloodcurdling screams…fire. The last image didn’t fit. How could there have been a fire? “I don’t understand.” She considered the handsome man, bare-chested and tanned. His sister had called him Garrett. The name fit him. She recalled he’d helped her from the car, but was he rescuer or attacker? She tucked her lower lip between her teeth and gnawed on the captured flesh. She’d rewarded him with a firm kick to the groin. Her cheeks flushed. And he’d been quick to remind her of it. “Just a few minutes is all I’m asking,” he said. “What do you have to lose?” Her throat closed tight around the unspoken questions. Where was this place? Was she still in Averyton? Dark silhouettes of pine and oak trees lined the front yard and grew into a dense wooded area behind her. Directly in front of the house was the bay. Okay, everything seemed to be as he explained. He had a sister, Bel, talkative and a bit pushy but friendly enough for a woman with a decided attitude. She was now inside the house doing God knows what. And Garrett… She watched the way he ran his hand 35

Sally Painter

through his long black hair. Sexy Garrett seemed different from his sister. He seemed patient and concerned. And he knew things about her, such as her darkest fear was demons. He claimed to have fought them. It was his job but what did that mean? Who gave it to him? Did he just wake up one morning and decide he’d become a demon hunter? There’s no such thing as demons. The programmed mantra kicked in but she mentally blocked it. No reciting of mantras. Not this time. She had to think this through. When he helped her from the car she hadn’t seen any other vehicles in the street. No ambulance. No victims. So what hit the car if it wasn’t like he said? She rubbed the ache in her temple. If she allowed herself to listen to him, then…then she might begin to believe—her pulse jumped—which might lead to a relapse. She’d end up in the hospital again. It was dangerous to entertain the slightest possibility that demons might be real. “After years of suffering from what you thought were delusions, don’t you want to know what really happened to you?” he asked. To finally have confirmation the things she saw did exist was a temptation greater than any she’d ever known. To receive validation especially from a stranger was potent. He had no way of knowing about her lifelong suffering and yet somehow he did. Giddiness quaked through her at the next thought. A thought she dared not allow herself to entertain but it barged past all defenses. Garrett might hold the answers to the mysteries surrounding her life. All she had to do was consent to hearing him out. If what he said was true, then she wasn’t mentally ill. She swallowed the dryness in her throat. Hope took root and held firm in spite of her attempt to refuse it. What if…what if the doctors had been wrong? Jen wrung her hands together. What if he was lying for some dark unspeakable reason? “I won’t hurt you,” Garrett spoke and turned on the porch light. Harsh light flooded the screen porch, revealing just how tall and muscular he was. Jet-black hair fell past broad shoulders. Jen let her stare travel over his naked chest to a tapered waist. Oh, he was indeed a sexy man, never mind she should be wondering why he was shirtless. Heat flashed through her and Jen mentally shook herself. “Just who are you? And why were you out so late tonight?” “I’ll answer all of your questions, Jen.” His low seductive voice sent shivers of excitement cascading down her back. She reminded herself that many serial killers had been handsome and charming. But none of them had a sister like Bel. Garrett’s sister didn’t seem like a serial killer and if Jen put all fear aside, she’d admit neither did he. “I can help you.” His voice fell in a deep baritone, yet it wasn’t the words that made the air between them crackle. Jen took a step forward. Just her luck to meet someone like him under circumstances fraught with confusion. If only she could trust herself to assess his true nature. For a brief moment she believed she could abandon her fears and take that leap of faith but it disappeared in a flicker. As much as she wanted to believe he spoke the truth, she was still lucid enough to recognize fear governed her world. That would

36

Reunited

never change. Even years of therapy hadn’t restored her faith in life. It certainly wouldn’t tonight. Whatever game this Garrett was playing, she wasn’t going to hang around to see it through. “It’s not a game.” “How did you—” “Know what you’re thinking?” he asked. The soft summer breeze carried his words to her. Maybe it was hypnosis. She knew only one thing she trusted―fear. She walked around the SUV and reached for the door. “I’m sure your parents believed they were doing what was best for you when they had you committed to the psychiatric hospital.” “What?” She froze. No one knew about that other than her parents. It was her family’s dark secret. “They didn’t understand your abilities. You’re different in a very important way. You can see auras. You can see the demons. You see them phase in and out. And you can command the light.” Jen leaned against the SUV, certain her legs were going to collapse underneath her. This had to be a delusion. For all she knew she could still be in the shop or driving home. Maybe she’d suffered a head injury from the wreck and was stumbling around downtown. “There are more abilities just waiting for you to discover them. All you need is a little faith in yourself.” “W-Who are you?” Her voice trembled. “Garrett Dermonté. I was sent to protect you. Tonight was just the first time. I’ll protect you until the day I cease to exist. You can’t deny the truth any longer. Just look at your SUV. You know there weren’t any other vehicles on the street. It’s time to embrace who you are, Jen Ormand.” “I-I…” Jen closed her eyes and tried to sort the thoughts tumbling through her mind. She didn’t know what to believe. Whom to trust. She didn’t know him and everything he said went against her training. And how did he know all those things about her? “The demons have marked you. Do you understand what I’m saying? They won’t stop until they have you. There’s no going back, not after tonight’s attack.” Jen slapped at another mosquito and took a deep breath. She needed more time to think. It was all happening too fast. She looked around, sensing something watching her. The fine hairs along the nape of her neck bristled and her stomach pitched with a familiar queasy feeling. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

37

Sally Painter

“I think,” she murmured and backed away from the SUV. A sense of urgency quaked through her. Something wasn’t right about the SUV. A scraping noise like a foot grinding over sand made her glance around. Nothing. The sound stopped. “Jen?” Garrett’s voice cracked over her like a whip. A flash of red caught her attention underneath the vehicle. She leaned down and gasped when she recognized it was a pair of red eyes staring up at her. Her mind rejected what she saw, but before she could call out to Garrett, the shadow rolled out from underneath the SUV, growling and snarling as it sprang to its feet. The creature lunged for her. Screaming, she stumbled backward but quickly regained her balance and raced toward the house—toward Garrett. “Help me!” she said. Garrett leaped from the steps. He was a blur as he sailed over her. Jen swung around just in time to see dark wings unfurl from his back. Wings? Her mind locked with the vision of huge wings slicing through the air. He flew over the yard and the creature turned with a yelp. Jen tripped on the steps. “Bel!” Garrett shouted. “Garrett?” Bel burst through the back door. “What’s going on?” Her voice choked off. Jen turned just as Garrett rammed into the monster, sending both of them hurtling to the ground. “Come with me, Jen.” Bel bounded across the porch in a calm authoritative voice. Bel didn’t wait for her to respond and grabbed Jen by the arm, pulling her inside the screen porch. “Get behind me,” she said and looked out over the yard below them. “Just one?” “Uh-huh,” Jen wheezed, peering around Bel. Garrett was on his feet and swung at the creature. His fist struck the monster in the face. It careened backward with a loud grunt and fell to the ground. Garrett stomped over to it, his large black wings undulating from his gait. Jen couldn’t believe her eyes. Garrett had wings! Where had they come from? What was he? She ran down the length of the porch to get a better look while Bel took a protective stance in front the screen door. Garrett leaned over and grabbed the creature’s head between his hands. “How many? How many came with you?” “B-But you don’t protect humans any longer,” the creature huffed. “How many?” “N-None,” it stuttered as blood dripped from its mouth. “How did you get here?” Garrett barked.

38

Reunited

“Car. I rode underneath.” It dug its feet into the sand, trying to escape, but Garrett had a firm grip on its head. “Who knows you’re here?” “No one. Let me go!” Jen squinted into the moonlit yard, training her stare on the creature. The wind swayed the trees overhead and the shadows shifted, allowing the diffused light to bathe its face. Her breath caught in her throat. Thick gray horns curled from its temples. Her knees weakened and she grabbed for the screen wall as she sank to the floor. Scenes of that fated night flashed in front of her. The demon chasing her along the cemetery fence, snarling and gnashing at her ankles. This wasn’t happening. She stared at the demon. “No one believes in you anymore,” it laughed. “She does.” Garrett tightened his grip on the hellion’s head and twisted. The cracking sound made her stomach pitch. Jen watched the demon’s body melt onto the ground, forming a puddle in front of Garrett. She gasped for breath, unable to look away. The liquid burst into flames and she screamed, kicking at the floor in an attempt to stand. She had to get away. “Whoa, babe,” Bel said, and reached underneath her arms to help her stand. “Oh my God!” Jen cried, staring down at Garrett. The fire extinguished and the smoke drifted from the ground. It was a putrid odor and made her stomach pitch. “Easy. You’re safe.” Bel guided her to a nearby chair. “Take deep breaths.” Jen drew the humid air into her lungs while staring down at Garrett. “He has wings! Oh God…what’s going on here?” She’d just seen Garrett fly and a demon burst into flames. She trembled as though the night air was freezing. “Is she okay?” Garrett called up. His naked torso glistened with sweat and each labored breath drew the muscled planes into sculpted perfection. “Just a bit shaken,” Bel responded. He stood with hands on hips and arms bulging. The late night breeze lifted his hair from his shoulders, creating a shiny swirl of black behind him. Dark wings arched higher above broad shoulders and the wind teased the feathers into a fluttering wave. Wings! She blinked, trying to accept what she saw. Her lips quivered as the mantra pressed against them. She pursed them together, refusing to speak the words. Never again. No amount of denial could ever remove the vision before her. This magnificent winged man was forever embedded in her memory. “I’m going to scout the area and make sure there aren’t any more lurking around,” Garrett said, directing his stare at Jen. “Take care of our guest. If others show up, don’t waste time. Take her and fly over the bay.” “I’ll protect her,” Bel said, still standing beside her. Jen hugged herself and rocked slightly in the chair.

39

Sally Painter

“Easy, kiddo.” Bel placed a firm hand on her shoulder and an inexplicable wave of calmness moved through her. “We still have a lot of night left. Take those deep breaths. You’re safe. My brother is very capable as you just witnessed. He trained me, so you can relax. We aren’t going to let any demons get you.” Bel’s voice was full of confidence. For the first time in her life, Jen believed the promise that she was safe. Had she at long last found allies in this brother and sister demon-fighting team? She watched Garrett stretch his wings to full expanse and stood to get a better look. It felt like a scene from a fantasy painting bursting to life. Feathertips brushed the ground as he stroked downward then raised the wings above his head. The late night breeze caught underneath them and lifted him from the yard. Her jaw slackened. Garrett was flying! He sailed higher above the trees and circled the yard. “I can’t believe it,” Jen whispered. “It’s a tough way for you to discover we’re telling the truth,” Bel said. “But as they say, this picture is worth a thousand words.” “W-What if there are others?” Jen asked, unable to say the word demon aloud. “Garrett is the strongest warrior in the Clisneach Guard.” “The what?” Jen edged closer to the screen. Garrett lowered one wing, and disappeared over the treetops. It was a glorious sight. She wanted to call after him and beg him to return. What if more demons came while he was gone? She glanced back at Bel, wondering how adept the woman was as a fighter. “Come inside and I’ll fix you a piece of cheesecake and some coffee. The demon said he was the only one. It appears he latched onto the underside of your SUV during the attack in town.” “You believe what he said?” Jen searched Bel’s round face. The woman was difficult to read. She’d shown compassion but had quickly turned into this down-tobusiness sternness. “Demons can’t lie when we question them.” Jen raised her eyebrows. “It’s true. Look, you don’t need to worry so. Even if another one shows up, it can’t stay near the water for very long,” she said, flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder. “That one was here long enough to attack me,” Jen reminded her, beginning to feel less confident Bel knew what she was talking about. “A suicide mission, no doubt. Demons can’t stay near clean bodies of water for longer than thirty minutes. Now swamps, that’s a different story. They love smelly, stagnant watering holes.” “W-What happens after thirty minutes?” Jen asked. “Pretty much what you saw.” Jen glanced back at the charred grass and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Come on. Garrett will be back soon and will answer your questions.” Bel turned to go inside the house. 40

Reunited

“Why can’t you answer them?” she asked. Bel stopped and glanced sideways at her. “It’s not my place. Garrett is your Protector.” “What does that mean? Who made him that?” “Let’s get you something a little stronger than coffee so you can settle down a bit. It’s always shocking for humans when they first see a demon destroyed.” The last comment really unnerved Jen, reminding her that Garrett and Bel weren’t human any more than the demon. So what were they?

41

Sally Painter

Chapter Four Garrett circled over the house one last time before setting off toward town. How had he missed the demon scent? He shook his head. That had never happened to him. Bel hadn’t caught the scent either. He sighed with relief. His body ached and he longed for daylight so he could sleep. He knew there were no other demons around. The only time a demon couldn’t lie was when he faced death at the hands of a gargoyle. That much in his world had not changed. If others had accompanied the demon, it would have confessed. He would sweep the area one last time before returning home. No doubt his sister would test Jen with the special cheesecake, and if she were able to hold it down, Bel would complete the analysis with exotic tequila, also blended with the special herbs only gargoyles and of course the Reconciler could ingest without becoming ill. One thing was certain. Jen Ormand should have no doubts demons existed after that demonstration in the yard. Explaining who he was should be easier now. The night air was warm against his face. Garrett arched his wings and rode the currents higher as he sought cooler air. A gust of wind caught beneath him and with it a reckless urge to unleash the power inside him. It was like a whisper beckoning him to just try to see how far he could fly. To let go of the constant self-control only a mastered warrior possessed and allow the innermost part of himself to emerge. He gritted his teeth. Dammit. Not now. He’d just found the Reconciler. The last thing he needed was to go rogue. Worrisome thoughts tormented him. Until tonight he’d never wanted to escape his duty. A sickening feeling churned in his gut and his muscles knotted against the growing tension. If he was infected then he might be a threat to Jen. Garrett lowered his wings and headed home. Still the events plagued him. Why hadn’t he or Bel smelled the demon lurking nearby or at least sensed it? He landed a couple of miles from the house and decided to walk off the nervous energy. Sand crunched under his feet as he walked down the road, turning onto the stretch that would empty into the driveway. He paused and sniffed the air, searching for any sign of demons. He’d been distracted, that’s why he hadn’t caught the putrid smell, after all, Jen’s natural perfume was arresting and blocked all other scents. Hell, he still carried it in his nostrils. Garrett squared his shoulders. By now she probably needed rescuing from Bel.

*****

42

Reunited

“I know this is a lot to comprehend,” Bel said, opening the back door to allow Jen to enter the house first. “It’ll all make sense to you once Garrett returns.” Jen smiled, noticing Bel’s face practically glowed. Blue eyes sparkled as though she held some secret she was dying to share. What a striking pair these siblings made. She took a deep breath and entered the house. The kitchen was very yellow with bright white cabinets and rows of windows. Cheery was how her mother would have described it. “Excuse the boxes. Just unpacking. We travel light so it’s mostly clothes and a few trinkets. Have a seat at the table.” Bel nodded to the set-up in the room adjoining the kitchen. Jen fell into the chair against the windows with her back to the bay. Good. She had a clear view of the entire room and all doors. Resting her elbows on the table, she bowed her head and held it between her hands. “What are you?” she asked, lifting her head to look at Bel. “I just saw your brother fly. He has wings. Where’d they come from?” She trembled. Demons were real and whatever these two were—they were real too. “Sugar? Cream?” Bel smiled and placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. Jen shook her head. “How about a slice of cheesecake?” Bel shoved the plate across the table. Jen’s stomach cramped at the thought of food. Obviously Bel was not going to answer any questions. “Do you think your brother…ah…Garrett is okay?” Jen asked, straightening in the chair and clasping her hands in her lap so tight her knuckles turned white. She relaxed them. “He’ll be fine, babe. Here.” Bel placed a shot glass in front of her. “But…what is he?” Jen asked. Bel quickly masked a worried frown and replaced it with a wide grin. “Have some tequila first. It’ll help settle your nerves.” She poured the liquor into the shot glass. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to go to the store and buy any salt or limes, but this isn’t like cheap tequila.” Jen shook her head. The last thing she needed was to get intoxicated. She wanted answers. Her mind raced with all kinds of possible explanations, but it was clear that until Garrett returned there were only unanswered questions. “Is Garrett an angel?” she asked, feeling foolish even suggesting it. “Look.” Bel leaned over, planting her hands on the table. “I know this is all confusing and pretty tough for you but your old life is over. There’s no going back. Garrett will answer your questions when he returns. Until then down the drink. It’ll make the truth easier to swallow.”

43

Sally Painter

The last comment wasn’t helpful at all and sent Jen’s heart into an erratic pounding. And what was with Bel? One moment she seemed very concerned and the next she was a warrior woman telling her to take a drink and buck up. “I-I don’t understand.” She looked at Bel, trying to see the woman’s aura. It wasn’t something she did consciously yet it was the one thing she’d never learned to block. Oh, she’d told the doctors she no longer saw colors surrounding people only because it proved easier to lie than to spend hours listening to them tell her over and over again how it was all in her mind. So she chose to ignore it, like so many things. And now she sat looking at a woman who didn’t have an aura. It was a first. Everyone, even demons, whose auras looked much like humans, had one. It was the way they moved that betrayed what they were. “Why don’t you have an aura?” she asked, refusing to accept she must wait for Garrett for explanations. “You need at least one shot, babe.” “Would it hurt to give me an answer?” Jen sighed and unclasped her hands to wrap her fingers around the small glass. She gave in under Bel’s unwavering stare. Tilting her head back, she threw the drink down her throat. It didn’t burn like most tequila. Her stomach churned with a growing heat radiating through her. “Surprised you, didn’t it? You’re drinking anejo and this one has some spices in it. Care for another?” Jen shook her head but Bel ignored the refusal and poured a second shot. “This time sip it.” Once more unable to resist Bel’s command, Jen lifted the glass and took a sip, prepared for the burning sensation typically dulled by salt and chased with lime. Instead she was surprised by the buttery texture as the liquor rolled over her tongue, leaving a hint of orange and cinnamon in its path. She swallowed. “It’s called exotic tequila.” Bel poured herself a shot glass and sat down across from her. “I really prefer the unaged stuff. All that licking and sucking just makes the experience more primal,” she laughed. “But I’ve kept this one stocked just for a night like this.” Bel lifted the glass in a toast. “To your renaissance.” “My what?” A sudden head rush made the room spin. Jen groaned, closing her eyes. When she opened them, it was to Bel’s big smile. The woman seemed to sway out of focus and then back into view. Jen’s pulse spiked. It wasn’t like a demon’s jerky movements as it phased in and out of visibility—this was definitely tequila induced. “Rebirth. A second chance to be what you were born to be. Do you think it was mere chance my brother saved you tonight?” “I don’t know. Before tonight I didn’t know men could fly. I mean—” She wasn’t sure what she meant. Just that Garrett had wings and Bel didn’t have an aura. She felt sanity slipping away from her and didn’t know how long she could cling to it. “Take another sip,” Bel coaxed and she obeyed.

44

Reunited

Warmth spread over her, washing away the fright and leaving a welcomed calmness in its place. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jen realized Bel was trying to get her drunk. Why did the other woman wish her incapacitated? She reached for the coffee and took a gulp, hoping it would break through the alcohol’s hold on her. “You should eat some of the cake.” Jen considered the creamy cheesecake and picked up the fork. She felt disembodied as she sliced a bite-size piece. When she slipped it into her mouth a burst of flavors exploded over her taste buds. Happier childhood memories tumbled through her mind. A time when her abilities were secret and her tiny body surged with a feeling of limitless power. Long before hospitals, doctors and drugs designed to block it all from her. “You like?” Bel leaned forward, anticipation flashed in her eyes. “Uhm…” Jen nodded. She wanted to recapture those special feelings and took another bite. It had been a magical time long before doctors had stripped away all those things that made her unique. They’d forced her to conform to the ideals of normalcy. Jen gobbled another bite and again the flavors triggered memories and suppressed feelings. The sense that she had an important purpose in life. The feeling of being special. She reached for the coffee to wash down the cake. “Excellent.” Bel’s smile widened, reminding Jen of a cartoon cat smiling innocently while concealing a bird in its mouth. Just what was Bel up to? “What is Garrett? I’ve never seen a man with wings.” She was determined Bel would answer her this time. The screen door creaked open and Bel sprang from the chair. She flashed a smile in Jen’s direction. “Why don’t you ask him?” She jerked open the kitchen door. Garrett stepped inside with a quick glance in Jen’s direction before turning to his sister. “He was a loner. Must have been the deserter and changed his mind. We’re safe for the night. It’ll be daylight in a few hours so they’ll be scurrying back underneath their rocks or wherever the hell they’re hiding.” “Our guest is full of questions.” Bel turned to set about pouring him a cup of coffee. Jen’s pulse throbbed at the image Garrett cut, dark trousers and still bare-chested, and what a chest it was. In the bright overhead light, she could see the taut muscles ripple underneath bronzed skin each time he moved. And on his right arm was a gold tattoo. It reminded her of a Celtic knot, only it was quite different. Just above it was a crest of some kind with the word Clisneach scripted over a waving banner woven through the crest. What did it symbolize? Bel had mentioned the Clisneach Guard. What was it? Bel opened a packing box and retrieved a white t-shirt then tossed it to Garrett. Jen noticed the same gold tattoo peeping beneath Bel’s t-shirt sleeve. Garrett’s thick arms

45

Sally Painter

bulged as he pulled the shirt over his head. Jen licked her lips as she watched him smooth the cotton material over his chest to his trim waist. The snug-fitting sleeve failed to cover the entire tattoo. He lifted his gaze and caught her looking at him. Heat rushed over her. He flashed a wide grin and Jen averted her stare. “There aren’t any more demons,” he said, directing his comment to her. “What does that mean? No more at all or—” “Just that no others followed us.” He glanced at the partially eaten cheesecake and open bottle of tequila. “You just couldn’t wait,” he clipped, flashing an angry glare at his sister. “Just a little TLC. Poor Jen was really shaken up. She needed something to calm her down.” “Are you satisfied?” Garrett gave his sister a knowing look and slowly shook his head. Jen wondered what hidden message was being conveyed between the two siblings. “As a matter of fact, I’m very satisfied. Some things need to be attended to up front, Brother.” Bel retrieved another plate from a nearby packing box. “Are you okay?” he asked Jen and sat down beside her. Her breath caught in her throat when those brilliant blue eyes locked with hers. Fiery depths seemed to draw her inside. A nervous quiver jumped to her stomach and she flinched when he slid the chair closer. Angular features were set in stern lines as he studied her. Was he trying to assess the level of her distress? That was easy, she was on the verge of a mental collapse and despite Bel’s belief tequila would help make things easier to accept, it hadn’t. She cleared her throat, noticing how his dark hair glistened with soft highlights. Unruly and windblown, it flowed to his shoulders. Jen bit the inside of her mouth. Behind his confident exterior, she sensed something else, something held in constant check. Bel came over and handed him a coffee mug. He took the proffered drink and sipped the hot liquid. Even simple movements such as holding a mug conveyed restrained strength. Jen couldn’t recall ever knowing any man so cognizant of his body. He sat with shoulders squared and spine straight. She’d read about warriors so highly trained they even controlled their heart rates, but until that moment she’d never thought it possible. Staring up at Garrett, she wondered what kind of a warrior had wings. She watched his lips part as he continued to drink the coffee, and drew her tongue over hers. Sure, she should be frightened of him, and although his presence was commanding, for the first time in her life Jen wasn’t afraid. It was an odd reaction to this man, this being, considering she didn’t know exactly what he was. At least he wasn’t a demon.

46

Reunited

She released the breath she’d been holding since he sat down. The feeling of being protected wrapped around her like a warm cocoon. She looked at his shoulders, trying to see his back, wondering what had happened to his wings. “You’re full of questions,” he said and set the mug on the table in front of him. “I’ll try to answer them but first I ask you accept the things you saw as a child as real. That is your first truth. You were never mentally ill.” Tears welled in her eyes. His words were the ones she’d longed to hear from her parents. Covering her mouth, Jen attempted to dam the rising emotions but they spilled over. She leaned forward. Years of pent-up self-doubt burst free. Pain that nearly destroyed her raked raw to the surface. His hand clamped firmly over her shoulder, squeezing as though willing his strength to her but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I can’t imagine what you’ve suffered.” His voice, deep and full of warmth, fell over her like a tender caress. “They robbed you of the ability to trust your instincts. I wish we had the luxury of time so you could adjust to everything you’ve seen tonight, but the fact is you have very little time. The demons want you. They won’t stop even if it means they all die trying, like the pack tonight.” He continued to talk and Jen tensed against the sobs, struggling to regain control. “Why me?” she sniffed, looking at him through blurred vision. His face reminded her of ancient statues she’d studied in art history classes. Her stare locked with his again and heat raced down her spine to fan over her abdomen. How could she be such a mixture of emotions? Perhaps it was the side effect of aged tequila. “W-What are you? An angel?” she asked, compelled to check for his aura. Her throat tightened as she searched for the typical outlining of color. Any color, she wasn’t choosy. There wasn’t any. “You’re worried because you can’t see my aura,” he said, breaking the silence. His lips parted and formed an almost boyish grin but the look that flashed across his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Desire sparked in those blue eyes. Eyes as blue as the Carolina sky. Garrett cleared his throat but the hunger lay unmasked. Jen squirmed under his intense regard. “It makes me really uncomfortable that you can pick up my thoughts like that.” She hugged herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “And you’re right, I can’t see your aura,” Jen said and glanced at Bel, “or yours.” “We don’t have auras because we’re gargoyles,” Bel said. Garrett flashed an angry look at his sister. “Gargoyles?” Jen felt her mouth fall open and clamped it shut. “Dammit, Bel. What are you after? Shock and awe?” he asked, but it was the harsh look he gave his sister that startled Jen, making her realize there were many sides to this complex man—gargoyle. She looked from him to Bel.

47

Sally Painter

Bel shrugged, genuinely appearing as though she had no clue how her words had startled Jen. “Please excuse my sister,” he said. “Is she telling the truth? Are you really a gargoyle?” Jen couldn’t stop shivering and tightened her arms around herself. She wondered why Bel couldn’t have told her this in Garrett’s absence. He nodded. “She’s telling the truth.” A small moan slipped between her lips. This couldn’t be happening. Weren’t gargoyles just as evil as demons? The ones on the church roof were certainly sinister looking. Yet Garrett had saved her. He made her feel protected. How could something evil deceive her so thoroughly? What should she believe? She’d relied upon the discernment of others to interpret life for her. This was too much. “Are you satisfied?” Garrett directed the question to his sister. “You’ve created your little drama. See how upset you’ve made her?” “Oh for the love of God, Garrett, you drag things out so.” Bel slammed the mug down, sloshing coffee onto the knotty pine table. “Besides she’s been upset ever since arriving here. She’s obviously in shock. Just look at her.” Jen glanced at the blonde beauty sitting across from her. “Jen, it’s easy, babe,” Bel said. “We’re the good guys. Only not ugly like the ones you see hanging onto churches and other buildings. We’re real, those monstrosities aren’t. Demons are bad. We fight demons and protect humans from them.” Bel looked at Garrett. “See? That’s the way you do it and to think I didn’t tell her while you were gone because I felt only her Protector could answer her questions.” She rolled her eyes. “I was in the process of doing just that,” he said. “Right, as slow as molasses. We need to speed things up, Brother,” Bel said and got up from the table. Jen watched Bel pick up the dirty dishes and walk over to the sink. It was obvious the siblings were at odds about how to reveal the truth to her. If this was the truth. How could she be certain? “Both of you are gargoyles?” she asked, glancing past Bel toward the door and wishing she’d chosen a seat closer instead the one farthest from it. “I don’t know how to ease your worry,” Garrett spoke softly. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” He glared at his sister who turned from him. “But Bel has been her typical tactless self. Let me tell you about our lives.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. His touch tore through her defenses. Jen didn’t pull away and questioned why she allowed him such familiarity. Was that a gargoyle power? Is that how he defeated demons? “Tell her about vampires too while you’re at it,” Bel interrupted. Anger flashed over his face. 48

Reunited

“I need to talk with you, Bel,” he said, and before Bel could comment, he stood, grabbed her by the arm and ushered her toward the back door. “Excuse us a minute,” he threw over his shoulder to Jen and opened the door, dragging his sister onto the porch with him. “Just what the hell are you doing?” Garrett whispered, trying to control his anger. “Don’t you understand how traumatic this is for her?” “Sure I do but I also know she’s the Reconciler. She’s a lot stronger than you’re giving her credit. And where is it written that her destiny requires she obtain inner tranquility? She doesn’t need to understand everything in order to fulfill the Legend. You’re not a psychologist, so why are you trying to help her deal with childhood trauma? Our jobs are simple. Find the Reconciler, protect her and let her do what she was born to do.” “Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that. She has to come to terms with her fears before she can possibly move into her destined role.” “Says who? I think you need to quit trying to cushion the truth. She has to make these discoveries and your handholding is only slowing things down. Besides, we both know the only destiny she has is death.” “Dammit, Bel. I know you aren’t cold-hearted.” “I’m a realist and you used to be one too. Look, I’m really sorry she’s going to die. She’s seems like a good person but I’m worried about you.” Her voice broke off and she rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I can see where you’re going with all this kindness. I know right now all you can think about is healing her. And that’s what you’ll end up doing. But I’m telling you right now it would be a big mistake, Brother, not to mention just plain pointless.” “No human life is pointless.” “Don’t dissect my words. You know what I mean. I think it’s a disservice to the poor woman to mislead her into thinking she has any kind of future other than a sacrificial one. She’s not going to survive what’s coming.” Her words hit him as surely as a fist to the gut. Garrett hid his reaction from his sister. “Since I’m the one who found her, it’s my place to decide what’s best for her.” “Fine!” Bel threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Do it your way. I’ll stay out here and stand guard.” “We’ve always worked as a team, Bel. I can’t do this without you.” The tense lines in her face softened. “It’s just when you look at her, Garrett, there’s something in your eyes I’ve never seen before and it scares me. What’s going on with you?” Her last comment made his pulse sharpen. His sister had sensed the change in him. Had she picked up on his nearly uncontrollable lust for Jen Ormand? He tightened his hands into fists.

49

Sally Painter

“It’s nothing. I can control it,” he said, wondering if he could. “For now. But she has a powerful charisma. It’s very appealing and I suspect it’s pretty incapacitating for a male, judging by the way you’re acting around her.” So Bel sensed it too. Thank God! “What are you trying to say?” He searched her eyes for the truth but Bel blocked her thoughts. “She’s powerful, Garrett. Even in her messed up state right now, that woman exudes an energy that’s so arresting and seductive—I assume it’s the Reconciler energy. It stands to reason she’d need such an attraction to bring our race back together for a common cause. But it’s untrained. She’s just beginning this journey of self-discovery. I’m worried about you being too close while she does.” “I’m her Protector. Keeping her alive is the only thing I’m focused on,” he said, hoping that by voicing his intent he could make it so. How could he explain to his sister that he worried it wasn’t the Reconciler’s powers affecting him but a side effect of the virus? Such a confession would send Bel into a panic. “You don’t need to worry about me. But I do need your help.” “Just—” Bel pursed her lips together as if she fought to keep from saying something. “Tell me what you need me to do.” Relief washed over him. Knowing she would still watch his back bolstered his confidence in facing whatever was going on with him. “I need you to fly into town and drive my car back here. Also, I left my shirt on the back wall of the cemetery. If the demons find it, they might be able to pick up my scent and track me here.” “I can do that but you have to promise to be very careful in there while I’m gone. Be aware that anything you’re feeling for her is an illusion. It’s her gift as the Reconciler. Nothing more.” “Here are the keys.” Garrett ignored the warning as he dug into the pants pocket and retrieved the key ring. “Don’t pick any fights with demons you might pass. As far as they know you’re just a mutant garg.” He handed the keys to her. “That’ll be tough.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Bel. I need you to keep a low profile. They weren’t expecting me tonight. If they think I was a loner they won’t be suspicious.” “Okay,” she sighed. She might have agreed but it was clear to him if Bel encountered a demon she would do what came naturally to her. “And while you’re out, maybe you can grab some groceries since it doesn’t look like you’ve had time to shop. Maybe even buy some organic roses for yourself. I know how you love them for a snack. The Sgaith Council wired our funds and there’s plenty to pay for team provisions when they arrive tomorrow night.” He pulled a wallet from

50

Reunited

his hip pocket and handed her the debit card. “Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself,” he warned and shoved the wallet back into his pocket. “I’m serious, Bel.” “Just call me errand girl,” Bel sneered, tapping the card against her hand. “And see if you can find out anything about the pack that ambushed Jen. Until Yates and the rest of our team arrive you and I are on our own. I don’t think we need worry about tonight. I did a thorough sweep and there aren’t any more out there.” “I’ll try to find out who their leader is. I have some contacts down by the marina. They helped me find this house. I can stop by,” Bel said. “All you need to do is verify.” Garrett hadn’t planned on telling his sister that their fiercest enemy was behind the attack but she needed to know. “I don’t understand.” She stared up at him with their mother’s eyes. “Just before the attack one of the demons mentioned Tracker.” All color drained from her face and she tried to mask the sharp intake of breath. “Now we knew he’d show up eventually.” Garrett gripped her upper arms and squeezed. “Don’t let this unnerve you.” “But if he’s here, then… I don’t know if we can defeat him, Garrett. Every time we’ve come up against him he’s managed to escape.” “Granted he has gained demon loyals, but—” “It’s not that. It’s the vendetta he has against you that scares me. He wants revenge. Until now, it’s just been him. If he’s raised an army… Oh God, when he learns you were the one who interfered with his attack tonight—” Her voice broke off. “We need more troops, Garrett, tonight.” “Listen to me.” He edged her toward the screen door leading to the steps and out of view. “I don’t want Jen upset any more than she is. Tracker’s been after me for a long time. Tonight doesn’t change anything. It just means we have to be smarter than we’ve ever been.” Bel shook her head, visibly shaken by the news that Tracker was leading the demons. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time. I only told you because you need to pay closer attention tonight. Don’t fall into any traps. So far all the demon witnesses are dead.” “But the one that rode home with you. What if he got word to Tracker?” “Think about it, Bel. You know how demons work. He deserted the scene of an attack. He had nowhere to go, so he was trying to redeem himself and came here, hoping to kidnap Jen and take her back to Tracker. That way, Tracker wouldn’t be any the wiser. He’d think the loner was the only survivor of the mission and would be hailed a hero. He told me no others were with him. You know they can’t lie to us. As for reinforcements, he didn’t have time. We know they don’t use cell phones.” “I just worry…”

51

Sally Painter

“Calm down and think straight. They’re inept with anything mechanical or technological. Even if it’s demonstrated to them a hundred times, they can’t grasp human creations. Only a handful can even master driving a car so stop worrying. Just verify with your sources that Tracker was behind the attack.” “Okay.” Bel nodded and squared her shoulders. “I depend on you.” He released her arm to gather her in a hug. “I still don’t agree about your approach with Jen. You can’t fix her, Garrett.” She hugged him back. “You don’t have to agree.” Garrett released her. “All you have to do is trust me.” “I don’t trust her. I don’t like the effect she has on you.” “I parked the car two blocks from the cemetery in an alley,” Garrett said, deciding it was best to ignore the last comment. He couldn’t afford a rift with his sister over Jen Ormand. He’d found the Reconciler and it was his sacred duty and right to protect her however he saw fit. “Picture in your mind where you left the car,” Bel said and closed her eyes. Garrett did, recalling his arrival in town and parking the car. “I see it, parked off Simmons Street.” Bel opened her eyes. “I’ll be back before sunrise, maybe sooner, depending on whether this little Mayberry of a town has a twenty-four hour grocery store.” Jen stood watching Garrett and Bel through the row of windows. She couldn’t hear what they were discussing in low whispers but sensed it was about her. By the tone of their voices, they were arguing. Two gargoyles. It was difficult to wrap her mind around this new reality. The arguing stopped and they bowed their heads. Was that some kind of gargoyle way of resolving differences? She glanced away, looking around the room and into the adjoining room. She spotted a staircase leading to the ground level and what she assumed must be the garage. Now was the perfect opportunity to escape, yet she felt Garrett and his sister genuinely wanted to help her. They were gargoyles and committed to their duty to protect humans. She shook her head. How was any of this possible? She just wanted to go home and process it all. She snorted. How could she process an alternate reality? How could the reality she’d been forced to believe be so wrong? She wrung her hands together and started across the room. Yet if she left now she’d never know what the entire truth was. Garrett had promised to give her answers. What should she do? If she ran away then all her questions would remain unanswered and everything leading up to this point in her life, all the mental anguish and suffering would have been for nothing. She rubbed her temple, her breath coming in short, hard rasps as she thought about her life. It was as though she’d been brainwashed, albeit unintentionally. How many

52

Reunited

others were there like her? Children misdiagnosed simply because no one recognized what was really going on. Garrett and Bel were living proof of her claims. And standing there inside their home, a part of her still denied what she’d seen that night. Even now, her mind, her programming, attempted to purge all she’d seen and replace it with the comforting thought it was just her imagination. Jen replayed the last hour over in her mind. She’d seen a demon liquefy and burn. She’d seen a gargoyle. A flying gargoyle. Her mind reeled with the endless possibilities of other truths awaiting her discovery. All she needed was the courage to stay. She owed it to herself to hear Garrett out. It was frustrating to realize the inner demons from her childhood still governed her life. The fear they’d brought into her life had never left. It dictated everything she did. Until now. Jen turned from the staircase. She was staying. Retracing her steps to the dining table, she sat back down in the chair. Tonight she would cut the binds that tied her to lies disguised as universal truths. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain the mixture of fear and excitement surging through her. In that brief moment she tasted the first sampling of freedom. Freedom of choice. Freedom from a dark and frightening past. Perhaps by listening to what Garrett had to say, she could reclaim her life, her real life, not the one carved out for her by medical professionals. She stared out the window. What were Garrett and Bel discussing? She unclasped her hands and tried to calm herself. She’d waited this long to hear the truth, she could wait a little longer. Her thoughts turned to Garrett. He claimed to be her Protector. How had he become that? The image of him, barechested and barefoot, standing in the doorway, was forever blazed into her mind. Her body was a riot of sensations. The image of broad dark wings arched above his head replayed over and over in her mind as she sat waiting for him to return. Her pulse throbbed. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. His crystal blue eyes held promises she found it impossible to ignore. What was he like as a lover? Her thoughts filled with fantasies of Garrett. Kissing him, running her hands over his chest and down his back. The door jerked open and she jumped. He stood in the open doorway. Embarrassed to be caught fantasizing about him, Jen looked down at her lap, tightening her hands together. “My apologies. Family business.” He closed the door behind him. “Is Bel not coming back in?” she asked, looking past him. “She’s gone to get my car.” He stood staring at her as though trying to decide something.

53

Sally Painter

“Is she going to fly? May I watch?” She jumped up before he could respond but stopped when he didn’t move to let her pass. The image of feathery wings unfurling from his back teased her. She lifted her eyes to meet his stare and a new wave of emotions hit her. His emotions. Powerful and hungry. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be alone with him. “She just left,” he said. “I know I sound rather silly…it’s all so new.” Jen glanced away. He took a step closer and she mentally tried to still the rapid pounding of her heart. His scent of ocean and earth filled her nostrils and sent a wave of longing through her. For a moment, she feared her heart would stop beating. “I understand how incredible this must all seem to you.” His lips parted into a gentle smile. Her stomach fluttered. The air between them was electric. Did he feel it? The fire in his eyes was undeniable. He looked away. “It’s true,” she half-laughed, meaning the attraction between them but implying something else. “I still can’t comprehend it all. I mean, demons are real.” Cold air fell over her from the ceiling vent. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears, Jen couldn’t hear his low response. The room closed in around her. She couldn’t breathe. Was it him or was it the aftermath of the night’s events? The room spun. She gasped for air and tried to sit down. She grabbed for the chair but missed, falling forward. “Easy,” Garrett said, catching her in his embrace.

54

Reunited

Chapter Five Garrett cradled her in his arms and Jen relaxed, resting her head against his chest. His heart pounded faster when she reached up and encircled her arm around his neck. “It’s been a horrific night for you. You need to rest.” He carried her through the den and down a hallway, pausing to look in the first room and then moving to the next. Soft lamplight bathed the bedroom. “Here, this looks like it must be mine.” He lowered her onto the bed. “I’ll get you a cold washcloth.” He left before she could protest. Jen covered her eyes with her arm, drawing in a slow breath. Scenes of Garrett fighting the demon, and the demon melting into flames filled her mind. The familiar mantras echoed, but once more she blocked them, refusing to deny what she had witnessed. “Gargoyles are real. Demons are real,” she whispered. Each time the programmed denial threatened to take over, she countered it by repeating the truth over and over, making it her new mantra. It was a mental struggle to keep the memories from being supplanted. She rubbed her forehead, realizing it would take time, but she would somehow regain all that had been taken from her. The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing echoed down the hall followed by a rush of running water. A gargoyle made those noises. What if he’d not been there to save her tonight? The thought brought her up into a sitting position. She’d be dead because her natural instincts had been systematically destroyed. It was devastating to realize what she’d long believed to be salvation had in fact been a death sentence for exactly the kind of attack tonight. And she’d been a willing participant in the processes that had stripped her of all natural defenses against demons. How could she have betrayed herself like that? Jen reasoned she’d been a child and pressed into submission by those in authority. She knew it was impossible to place blame but emotionally she needed to blame someone. Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped at them. Enough self-pity. She straightened her shoulders and planted her feet on the floor. She tried to stand but her legs wobbled beneath her. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward. Her life could never be the same, not that she wanted it to be. Garrett entered the room carrying a damp washcloth and handed it to her. “I don’t think I need it,” she whispered, folding it over in her hands before placing it on the stack of boxes by the bed. “Then you’re feeling better?” he asked and sat down on the bed beside her.

55

Sally Painter

His arm brushed hers and shivers of excitement raced over her. Energy seemed to radiate from him. Was it because he was an exotic creature or was it something else? It was impossible to think of him as anything but a man. She looked up and was surprised to see compassion in his eyes instead of arousal. “I was never sick,” she stated as though speaking the words out loud would somehow anchor the truth to her so it could never be taken from her again. He shook his head. “It’s so hard…to believe all the things I saw as a kid, especially that Halloween night…the demon…and the gargoyle that captured him. I mean, I really say him fly away with the demon kicking and screaming…it was real. All of it.” “I know it’s a lot to take in.” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Such a simple gesture, yet it sent wildfire surging through her. Jen felt like a teenager waiting for that first kiss. She ran her tongue over her lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. Embarrassed, she looked away. One moment she was panicky and the next wondering what kind of lover he was. She wasn’t thinking straight. These emotions could be displaced relief or…something else other than attraction. “I can help you, Jen,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “I can make this easier for you to accept.” His baritone voice caressed her. Tears welled in her eyes. His offer held an undeniable sexual innuendo but it didn’t cancel out the sincerity shining in his eyes. A sob lodged in her throat and formed a burning knot. “How can you help?” “I can vanquish your inner demons. If you trust me. Do you?” he whispered and stroked her hair again. She nodded, unable to push the words past the lump in her throat. “Good.” He leaned over and pressed his lips against the top of her head. Her stomach fluttered and Jen felt she’d melt into a pool of need. “Obviously, you’ll stay here tonight. It’s too dangerous to go home. And tomorrow—do you have a job? Do you need to let someone know you won’t be in?” “I-I have to be at work. I own a shop. A floral shop. I have to be there.” “Isn’t there someone who can run the shop for you? Just for tomorrow until we figure out what to do next.” Garrett looked down at her, trying to resist the compulsion to touch her. When he’d pressed the kiss onto her forehead, it required all his selfcontrol not to push her onto the bed and take her right there. They were alone. No one to interrupt, especially Bel. Garrett clasped her hand, marveling how smooth her skin was beneath his rough hands. She held him in a seductive fog, reminding him of a siren he’d known in ancient Greece. 56

Reunited

He stiffened his back. He would not succumb to the temptation. He closed his eyes and was surprised when a wave of pain rushed from her. Pain she carried from her childhood. As her Protector, Garrett sensed it was imperative she be healed. Only then would she be able to recognize her destiny. He didn’t care what Bel thought. “I don’t know anyone.” Her voice interrupted his thoughts and he opened his eyes. “There has to be someone you can call to fill in for you. Employees?” He looked down at her. Sweet paradise, this woman was more than a simple siren. Her large eyes were like melted pools of chocolate. He needed to see the same desire he was feeling reflected in their depths. He knew loving her would destroy him. Yet at that moment he didn’t care. “My two employees are teenagers. I have to be there in the morning,” she repeated. “Surely you know an adult who could fill in for you.” He stroked her hair, moving his hand down its length to her shoulder. He’d never felt anything so silky and knew if he lowered his face into the curls he’d be greeted with her enticing scent. Garrett cleared his throat, resisting the urge to rub his hand down her back. “There’s a neighbor. Mrs. Reames. She ran things after my parents died until I could move back here. I was living in Savannah and came home to take over their business. But she has a new job.” “How long has it been since your parents died?” he asked, knowing the answer according to prophecy would be four months, yet he waited. It wasn’t that he needed further confirmation. He knew she was the Reconciler. He just needed something to occupy his mind other than thinking how gorgeous her upturned face was or wondering how her lips tasted. “Four months.” Her voice cracked. “They were in a freak car wreck. I came home to make funeral preparations and find out what really happened to them. The police report had inconsistencies in it. I wanted to see the car but they’d already disposed of it. They said it was some mix up, but now… You said the demons were responsible.” She bowed her head and a muffled sob slipped past a brave attempt to stop it. She swiped at her eyes with her other hand. “I can’t bear the guilt of their deaths.” Garrett stiffened. Her pain tugged at him and he probed deeper into her mind. Inner screams echoed around him. Her screams. Sounds of a soul—lost. Jen leaned closer and buried her face into his chest. He stiffened. She had no idea how such contact drove him crazy with desire. Any consolation he could offer would weaken his defenses. Even closing his eyes, Garrett couldn’t escape. Her scent rode the very breath he drew and moved through his body like a drug working its way to his heart, pumping through his veins straight to his cock. “It wasn’t your fault. Shh,” he whispered and cradled her face between his hands. He brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and the moisture clung to his skin. “If they killed my parents to force me back home, then why didn’t they attack me when I came back to make funeral arrangements or during the past months?”

57

Sally Painter

“It wasn’t time. They knew you weren’t going anywhere.” “I don’t understand.” “They couldn’t… Look, none of this is your fault. You’re safe now. They won’t be back tonight. Trust me.” He looked into her eyes and saw his own reflection. Sweat broke out along his spine and slid down his back. The earlier resolve to resist her charms caved in around him. God help him! He wanted to taste her. Tensing his muscles against his body’s response didn’t stop the heat from traveling along the length of his cock. He should leave. Instead he lifted her chin to tilt her head back. Her eyes shuttered closed and her lips pursed together. How he longed to claim her mouth. Instead, he moved past them and planted a tender kiss on her cheek. Her aroma of gardenias and peaches ripened in the sun filled the air. He groaned and kissed her cheek again, pressing his tongue between his lips just enough to taste her flesh. A bolt of energy shot through him as the salt from her tears melted in his mouth, carrying her pain deep inside him. Her flesh became his flesh. Garrett recalled the ancient warning that should a gargoyle consume a woman’s tears, he’d become helpless against her wishes. But it was the second part of the warning he hoped was true. Those tears would meld the couple together for all eternity. Forever. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to claim Jen for all eternity. It was a mindless wish born out of emotions so powerful he dared not analyze them. The memories carried by her tears flashed through his mind. Images of a demon slain in a cemetery by a gargoyle. Shadows emerging from the walls in her bedroom. Frightened childish cries brushed aside as insignificant nightmares. The agony of years spent in mental anguish and isolation. Her pain rushed through him, revealing hidden desires and the ever-present feeling of loneliness. Garrett squinted against the onslaught. Her anguish was as great as his. Jen pulled from him and bowed her head. Had she sensed he was reliving those private memories? “It’s okay.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her back to him. “If you’ll allow me to transform your pain then the past can never hurt you again. All it requires is that first step. Let me heal you,” he said. Her pain pierced him as surely as a knife plunging into his chest. Garrett struggled with the torment and dragged it toward the light waiting just beyond a child’s fears. A light he would release into her to chase away the dark—forever. He would then replace it with strength—his strength. Garrett reassured himself it was his right to heal her. Bel had warned him against it but this was his choice alone to make as Jen’s Protector. He had complete discretion how to best assure the safety and journey of his charge. If he deemed a healing was necessary then he could perform one. It was his birthright to bequeath the one-time gift to whomever he wished.

58

Reunited

Unlike his sister, Garrett knew Jen must be whole in order to embrace her role as the Reconciler. He wasn’t naïve enough to expect her to cure the virus. She was to serve as a bridge over the chasm separating the infected and uninfected gargoyles. She would reunite them just long enough to fight their common enemy. One they’d fought from the very beginning of existence—demons! “This healing is my sacred gift just for you. It hallmarks the first step to reclaiming your soul.” Jen touched her cheeks, still tingling from his kisses. Through blurred vision she met his gaze and sensed his mind reaching into hers. He shoved past the façade she presented to the world. His thoughts mingled with hers, probing until he found the real her, hiding like a frightened child. Jen willed her mind to open to his. She trembled but allowed him to see everything ―all of her fears. For the first time she trusted someone. Not just anyone—Garrett, her Protector. “Let me take all this pain from you,” he whispered. “How?” Her stomach knotted. “Have you ever heard of a sin eater?” he asked. She stiffened. Unable to speak, Jen shook her head. It sounded horrid whatever it was. “I’m not one.” He rushed to explain. “But a sin eater literally takes on the sins of another and frees the person from them. Similarly, a gargoyle can consume a human’s fears and emotional pains. We take them away by inner transformation. That is my gift to you, Jen. That is how I shall heal you.” Jen stared at him. Was he serious? Could he do such a thing? She’d witnessed so much over the past hours, why should this be out of the realm of possibility? “Why would you do that for me?” she asked. “So you can reclaim your destiny.” “W-What am I destined for?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know. “Only you can discover your path. No one, not even I, can reveal it to you.” The last made her heart skip a beat, not from the words but from his tone of voice. Sadness. “Your childhood is holding you back. It’s prevents you from discovering the truth. Your truth.” “I spent my whole life trying to overcome my childhood,” she said, taking a shaky breath. She didn’t add that nothing had released her from its dark hold. Not drugs, not meditation, not mantras. Why did he believe he could succeed where everything else had failed? “The release has already begun. When I kissed your tears I drew them into myself and transformed the emotions they carried with white light. I can do the same for all of your fears.” 59

Sally Painter

“Transformed?” “By the light of all creation. Light of purity. It transforms all things dark. God-light, if you will.” She nodded, not telling him how she’d used it to start the car. “I just never knew anyone who could heal using white light,” she whispered, not feeling too confident he could transform all the emotions torturing her. “To be free of my fears would be a miracle.” Tears choked her. “What must I do?” “Hold my hands.” He held them palms up to her. Timidly, she placed her hands in his and the moment her flesh touched his, Jen knew he spoke the truth. She didn’t understand how she knew. It just was. Looking down at their clasped hands, she marveled how strong his were. His touch made her nervous with expectation. Was it the healing energy or something else? Something baser? She imagined how it would feel for those finely shaped fingers to stroke her. Absently, she wondered if all gargoyles were seductive like Garrett or was her attraction to him special? He turned to face her. Heat rushed to her sensitive areas and she ached for more. “Just relax,” he whispered and Jen leaned toward him, uncertain what to expect. A sudden burst of electricity zinged from him, jolting her as though she’d touched a live wire. Her heartbeat quickened. Was this part of the healing process or a reaction to being near him? She licked her lips, searching his eyes for the answer but looked away when she saw her own desire burning in blue depths. “Three deep breaths. Take them with me.” His voice did little to soothe her growing excitement. In spite of her giddiness, Jen inhaled with him. When he exhaled, she did too. With each breath they shared, the uneasiness drained from her and she began to relax. “Now close your eyes. One more breath.” She expelled the air. “Let go. Unbind your mind. Relax. No thoughts.” How could she not think about him when he was holding her hands? Visions tumbled through her mind in lightning flashes, illuminating just enough to give her a glimpse of the unfolding scene. Garrett holding her… Garrett kissing her… Garrett’s long, sexy fingers stroking her clit while he suckled her breasts. Jen squirmed where she sat on the bed. The barrage of images consumed her. Blue eyes blazed with passion. Garrett stripped off his clothes, revealing the perfection of his hard-muscled body. Jen licked her lips. He tugged her onto a quilt and leaned over her. Dark hair spilled over broad shoulders, brushing her breasts. He entered her and pounded his cock into her. Frenetic energy rushed to her groin. Her eyelids fluttered open. That couldn’t be part of the healing meditation.

60

Reunited

“Relax. Close your eyes,” he said. She swallowed and closed her eyes again. More vignettes of Garrett flashed against the darkness of her shuttered eyes like a theater screen. She reached out to touch his handsome face. He was real! She trailed her fingers down his jaw and paused to trace the fine laugh lines around his mouth. He smiled and her heart stopped beating. “Imagine a field of brilliant wild flowers.” His sexy voice broke through the haze and the images ripped away from her, replaced by a dark void. “Do you see the field of flowers in front of you?” Suddenly, a flash of light revealed a mass of red and yellow flowers so vibrant Jen couldn’t believe they weren’t real. “It’s a clear day. No clouds. Only a blue sky and warm sunshine. You’re lying on a quilt in the middle of this field of wildflowers. Can you see it?” She nodded. “Good. There’s a high wall encircling you and beyond it is a beautiful lake surrounded by majestic mountains in the distance. From where you’re sitting, you can’t see any of this because the wall obstructs your view. All you can see is this wall.” The scene in front of her was just as he described. “Can you feel the sun on your face?” She tilted her face up to bask in the sun’s warmth and nodded. A lilting melody of songbirds drifted from the other side of the wall. She sat on the quilt, staring at the massive wall. It was a hodgepodge of stones and mortar. Several places appeared to have been repaired and reinforced in a mismatch of brick and rock. A warm breeze rushed over the top of the wall and lifted her hair in a playful swirl. “Focus on the wall,” his voice droned in her ears. “Imagine the stones begin to shift and the rocks start to tumble underneath the motion. They slip from the wall and crash to the ground.” Jen held her breath. It was as if the world obeyed his words. Several rocks broke free and fell with an earthy thud, crushing the flowers in their path. “Now look beside you.” She turned and was startled to find him sitting on the quilt beside her. Garrett smiled, a simple gesture that made her heart palpitate. She wanted to look at him forever and reached out to glide her fingers over his long hair. She’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone. His hair was warm from the sun. How could that be? “I’m real,” he said as though hearing her thoughts. He enfolded her into an embrace, taking her by surprise. His touch set a fire roaring through her and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back to receive his kiss, only he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he cradled the back of her head and whispered, “Exert your free will and tear down this wall.” “What?” She opened her eyes. “Tear down the wall?” She stared past him to the wall encircling them.

61

Sally Painter

“Exert your free will. Tell it to fall, Jen. Imagine the mortar cracking and the rocks falling to the ground. Force the wall to bend to your will and set yourself free.” His breath fanned her cheeks. How did he expect her to concentrate on anything other than him? She was aware of each place his body touched hers and at that moment, the wall was the last thing on her mind. “You make it sound so easy.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “It is. Just let it all fall away from you. I’ll protect you.” He tightened his arms around her. That was not what she wanted from him at that moment. In fact, she wanted to push him down onto the quilt and ravish him underneath the summer sky. “Focus.” The word was like a dousing of cold water. She shivered. “You’re trying to distract yourself with other thoughts. I promise you, nothing can harm you here.” Jen broke from his embrace. She couldn’t concentrate if he was touching her. Taking a long breath, she turned toward the wall. “Your fears are the underpinning of this wall. If you remove them, the wall separating you from life will collapse. You’ll no longer need this barrier. It can’t protect you from demons. It never could,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her back. “It makes you weak against them.” She nodded, trying to imagine the wall falling but something blocked the image. Fear. Garrett was right. Fear was the mortar cementing the stones and bricks. It was the only constant in her life. And as much as she hated it, she trusted it. How could she just release it? Panic rushed in. “I can’t do this.” She gasped for air. “Yes you can.” Garrett held her to him once more and planted a kiss on the top of her head. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and images. She straightened. Garrett had saved her from the demons, twice. He’d sworn to protect her. The only thing he asked in return was her trust. His gift was one of freedom from all the things paralyzing her life. “Can you accept this healing?” She stood from the quilt, determined to tear down the wall and receive his healing. She looked around but all she could see was a wall so high only the sky was visible. She yearned to see what lay beyond. Was it as beautiful as he described? Her stomach churned. How could she just tear it down? She’d be vulnerable. “You built it. Only you can remove it.”

62

Reunited

She searched his face for any sign of doubt. There was none. Jen wrung her hands together. More than anything she wanted to believe all she had to do was will the wall to crumble. Garrett now stood beside her yet didn’t touch her. Energy radiated from him like a magnetic force and drew her closer. Even though their bodies didn’t touch, she felt as though his very soul reached out and wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Confidence filled her. “I don’t want this wall anymore,” she said. “Then visualize it collapsing.” Jen closed her eyes and imagined the wall weakening and giving under its own weight. When a loud rumble vibrated beneath her feet, her eyelids flew open. The wall swayed sideways. She reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his. The physical connection to Garrett infused her with his strength. Power and determination became hers. She glared at the wall and a few stones broke off, crashing to the ground. “That’s right, see how easy it is?” Garrett released her hand to stand behind her. Warm hands gripped her shoulders. Jen leaned back, enjoying the intimacy of him supporting her. His hands slid down her arms and braced her as the rocks continued to scrape and fall against each other. Fear seized her. What was she thinking? “I can’t live without this wall. I’ll be defenseless.” She turned and buried her head in his chest. Garrett stroked her hair. Only a few rocks had torn from the wall and already she felt exposed. “No more hiding, Jen. It’s time to embrace your life and who you really are.” His fingers crooked underneath her chin. “Look at me.” Jen lifted her head and was lost in his blue eyes. “Now look at the wall.” Reluctantly, she turned to face it again. “You can do this.” He gripped her upper arms. “Recognize your inner power.” She didn’t believe she possessed an inner power but something quaked inside her, Garrett tightened his fingers around her arms and she leaned back as the energy burst from her and shot into the sky. She watched it explode like colorful fireworks. “W-What the hell was that?” she asked. “Your free will awakening,” he whispered. “Call it forth.” Empowered, Jen visualized the wall demolished and flattened to the ground. No sooner had she held the image in her mind than a section of the wall shook and the rocks fell free, tumbling to the ground. The sound was deafening but she was determined the rest would follow. “Focus,” Garrett whispered.

63

Sally Painter

Jen took another breath and nodded. She glared at the wall, despising it for the trap it had become. A manifestation of false security. It was time to reclaim her life. Suddenly, the wall swayed sideways. “Fall,” she shouted and in one swift movement, the wall toppled like a circle of dominos. She watched it falling upon itself until all that remained were dust clouds drifting from the rubble. “Oh my God!” She took a step toward the crushed barrier. Beyond the remains lay a lush rolling pasture and lake with the range of mountains mirrored in its glasslike surface. “I can’t believe it.” She turned to find Garrett smiling as though her triumph was his. “You set me free,” she squealed. Caught up in excitement, Jen grabbed him around the neck and scattered kisses over his face. “You did it, Jen. You reclaimed your life.” He tried to hold her at arm’s length. Suddenly, the sun began to grow brighter until there was only white light, so brilliant she could no longer see him or even feel him. Where was he? What was happening? “Garrett?” “I’m here.” He reached out and grasped her hands. Relief washed over her. In the wake of the destruction of her fortress, Garrett became her touchstone. He said something in a foreign language. His voice drifted through the haze and then the fog cleared. There he stood in front of her with his long dark hair caught in the wind, whipping off his broad shoulders. “What’s happening?” She sought the look that told her everything was going to be okay, but his eyes were no longer blue. They glowed yellow like a cat’s eyes. She should have been frightened yet wasn’t. Garrett would never harm her. A pain shot through her abdomen and she looked down to find his hand plunged inside her. Jen screamed and grabbed his arm but he wouldn’t release her. Instead, the pressure grew and she cried under the excruciating pain. Slowly, he began to pull a black tangled mass from her. “Garrett! What are you doing?” she sobbed in a shrill broken sound. Another sharp jolt and a black mist twisted from her, following the corded mass he now held in his hand. Garrett took a step back as the smoky substance engulfed him and the knotted cords he held twisted like a cobra, undulating in front of him. It reared back and struck him, burying its fangs into his flesh. He growled and held his arms out to his sides as the snake burrowed into his flesh and entered his body. The ugly wounds oozed blood and he leaned forward. “Garrett!” Jen didn’t know how to help him. Grunting, he hunched over and dark wings emerged from his back, fluttering in the wind until they arched high above his

64

Reunited

head. Unable to speak, Jen watched as he lowered the wings and folded them against his back. She tried to extend her hand to touch him but her arms were dead weights beside her. All she could do was watch as his face contorted and became a mixture of man and a black panther. Muscles bulged beneath his t-shirt as his arms flexed stiff by his sides and his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. He reared back and the wings snapped out into full expanse, undulating in the wind. A wild catlike roar parted his lips and Jen covered her ears against the savage howl. Then…there was silence. She lifted her head, letting her hands slide away from her ears. Garrett stood in front of her, magnificent and radiating white light. He retracted the wings and his facial features returned to normal. “Oh my God, Garrett. What just happened?” Jen gasped. “What was that black stuff that came out of me?” “The physical manifestation of your fears.” “B-But it entered you.” “And I transformed it and then released it,” Garrett panted. Sweat beaded over his forehead and he rubbed his hands over his face. “Your fears can no longer hurt you, Jen. You’re free of them. You’re healed.” “Oh, Garrett,” she cried and fell into his arms, lifting onto tiptoes to cover his mouth with hers. Garrett stiffened against her kiss but she didn’t care. He would receive her kiss. Gratitude burst inside her. He tasted better than she’d imagined. One kiss would not enough. She teased his lips with her tongue. He groaned. “Open your eyes,” his voice interrupted, and Jen wondered how he’d spoken when she clearly had him in a lip-lock. She opened her eyes and was startled to find him sitting on the bed beside her. The room was still dark with only the small lamp illuminating the corner. How had everything seemed so brightly lit? The crumbling wall had been real. And the black mist. And the kiss… “What—” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t understand.” She could have sworn they’d been standing. “It’s okay.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and Jen collapsed against him. “I feel so free.” She hugged him. “Thank you, Garrett.” His muscles flinched under her hands as she glided them up his back. She was lost in the sensation of holding him. He felt so good she never wanted to let go. A new wave of sensations swept over her like crisp fresh air. It felt incredible. She attempted to summon the old fears but they didn’t respond. When she thought of demons, the typical anxious cramping in her stomach didn’t overwhelm her. Jen tried again, only this time she tried to summon the childhood memory that had left her traumatized. Instead of darkness and terror, there was now light.

65

Sally Painter

Garrett had accomplished in a few minutes what a lifetime of therapy couldn’t. “How can it be so simple?” she asked, lifting her head to look up at him. Excitement glinted in his eyes and her heart flip-flopped. His lips slid into a sexy grin. The promise shining in those blue depths seduced her. All he had to do was make that first move and she’d be his. “Healing is always simple,” he said and stroked her cheek with the back of his hands. Her breath lodged in her chest. Had he shared her vision? The kiss? “I feel—I mean…” She laughed and bowed her head. “I don’t know what I mean. It’s such a new feeling.” The connection with him had been strengthened by the healing. Jen leaned closer and her breast brushed against his arm. He tensed. Her body shocked to life and she wanted more. She ached to feel his hands massaging her breasts and his lips covering her sensitized nipples. Wet heat rushed between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together. “It’s normal to feel…aroused.” He cleared his throat again and shifted so his body no longer touched hers. Jen frowned. That was not the reaction she’d expected. He stood from the bed and took a step back, ramming his hands in the pants pockets, but not before she noticed the bulge. He was aroused as much as she. “Now who is building walls?” She stood from the bed, closing the distance between them.

66

Reunited

Chapter Six Garrett’s heart hammered when she walked toward him with hips swaying in a manner any Southerner would call sashaying. “You’re suffering from euphoria. All humans experience it after a light healing.” Her lips parted in a slow, sultry smile. “The only thing I’m suffering is impatience. Kiss me, Garrett.” Jen stopped in front of him and lifted her hand to his face. His heart pounded harder. She shouldn’t touch him like that. He met her look, recognizing the excitement in her eyes. “It’s taboo to take a human lover,” he said, not telling her it was an act punishable by exile. At that moment he was willing to risk everything just to feel himself inside her. Molten heat rushed to the tip of his dick. He didn’t care about the boundaries between humans and gargoyles. Boundaries established when the first gargoyle had died from the mutating virus. The Sgaith Council’s decree was based on pure conjecture with no data to back the conclusion that the virus was a result of mating with humans. Staring at Jen and smelling the scent of her arousal was more than he could resist. “How can this be wrong, Garrett? You’ve given me such an amazing gift.” She stepped over to him. “I’d like to give you something special too.” She trailed featherlike strokes down his forearms. Her fingertips left a blistering path over his flesh. Garrett watched as her lips formed each word. Lush, plump lips. She ran her tongue over them and let her gaze drop to his mouth. She leaned forward and encircled her arms around his neck. “This can’t happen,” he said and grabbed her by the waist, trying to keep her from grinding her hips against his, but when she brushed against his erection, he relaxed his grip. “I want you, Garrett,” she whispered, coming up on tiptoes and tilting her head as though to kiss him. Her breath fanned his lips. “You…” He tried to object but she smothered his words with her mouth. Soft firm lips moved over his. His nostrils filled with her arresting scent. He tightened his arms around her. All his defenses deserted him. God, she tasted better than he’d imagined. He cupped the back of her head, pressing his lips into hers. With his other hand he explored the curve of her hip and moved to cup her ass, tugging her into him. Rolling her hips beneath his touch, she ground her supple body into him. 67

Sally Painter

She lifted onto tiptoes and pressed harder against his stiff shaft. All concerns about what was right and wrong melted away. Garrett groaned. Her lips tasted like lush fruit warmed in the sun. He teased her lips with his tongue. There was only her and the need to possess her. Firm breasts crushed against his chest and a ragged groan vibrated inside him. The last thing he wanted was to push her away even though he knew he should. His heart pounded a staccato beat in his chest. She didn’t know what she was doing but he did. Fate had brought them together but not so he could throw her onto the bed and ravish her. She broke from the kiss to scatter a series of kisses down his neck. All his defenses abandoned him. She flicked her tongue in tiny circles over his flesh. Her lips were moist against his skin with gentle puffs of breath teasing him into a mindless mass of need. She sucked a bit of tender flesh into her mouth, flicking her tongue over the captured skin. By all that was holy, how had she found the one place on his body that could render him helpless to his baser desires? Sweet torture! He needed to fly around for a while and cool off. “I want you, Garrett,” she whispered, planting quick kisses on his lips. “It wouldn’t be fair… You…don’t know everything,” he said between kisses. “Tell me later.” She claimed his mouth with hers. He couldn’t think. He should just blurt out the truth. Reveal her destiny and prepare her for what was coming, and by doing so condemn the entire world to demonic rule. He broke free and held her at arm’s length. Did she have to look so damn beautiful? Did her hair have to tumble down her back like a shimmering fall of dark silk? The ache growing in his cock was so fierce he felt it would devour him. Flexing his arms, Garrett steeled against the quake thundering through him. He twisted his neck, pushing the hunger back but it was unrelenting. Sweat rolled down his back. “You’re destined for something other than being my mate.” How could he make her understand? “There are predestined elements surrounding our meeting. Things you must discover for yourself.” His voice shook. It wasn’t fair. He felt deceitful not telling her everything. “No more talk. Kiss me.” She twisted free and rubbed against him. Every time she spoke in that lilting voice, so full of Southern sultry promises, he felt he’d come. She was a seductress and knew how to move her hips, tilt her chin and press full breasts against him so he was unable to deny her. “Garrett…” her voice trembled. “I-I…” he said. She was naïve and had no idea what she tempted. “You have no idea how much I want you. I want to sink my cock into your tight little pussy…” He shook his head. Dammit! That was not what he should be saying to her. “What I mean is…I never expected this.” His breath was ragged and he took a step back.

68

Reunited

“I want to feel you inside me, Garrett. When we were on the quilt in the field, I knew we were supposed to be together. That’s why we met like we did. You healed me so I could see our future together.” She stepped closer but he held his hand up in a gesture for her to stop. “That…that is not our future.” His voice cracked. She was the forbidden. Tempting curves and tender flesh waited for his touch. Her pouty lips pursed together, ripe for his kisses. “Sweet paradise, I can’t deny you.” Garrett reached out and closed his hands around her upper arms and pulled her to him. Covering her surprised gasp with his mouth, he groaned and slid one hand down the length of her back. He reached for the tshirt hem, his fingertips grazing her silky flesh. Slender arms locked behind his neck and her body molded to his, fitting as though created just for him. Garrett clawed at her clothes, pulling the t-shirt over her head. He was a crazed animal in rut. All he could think of was fucking her. He lifted her from the floor and took long strides to the bed. Lowering her onto the mattress, he leaned over with dark hair falling past his shoulder. Her creamy breasts teased above the lace bra each time she moved underneath him. He reached down and cupped one breast, longing to free it from the bra. His stare locked with hers. Urgent heat roiled through him. His breathing quickened. She held her breath when he lifted the bra over one breast. He dipped his head to capture the nipple between his lips. He closed his lips around the bud and she moaned. God, she tasted sweet. Garrett groaned and stroked the tender mound. He wanted to make love to her slowly, like sipping a fine wine, but he couldn’t wait. Taut muscles flinched under his hand when he glided over her abdomen. Her breath came in short pants when he dipped his hand beneath her shorts and palmed the silky panties covering her pussy. Moist heat seeping through the material and smeared over his hand. Rounded hips rotated beneath his strokes and set his pulse pounding. She was coming out of those shorts now. The snap gave under his fingers and he tugged the zipper down. She pushed his hand away and wiggled out of the shorts, pulling them over her hips and down her legs. The lacy panties were now askew but still shielding her pussy. “I want to see your pussy,” he growled and grasped the band, tugging on it. The flimsy material ripped beneath his fingers. His breath rushed from him like he’d been hit in the gut when the material fell from her, revealing her shaven pussy. Fleshy lips glistened with her juices and the inferno inside him roared. There would be no foreplay. No more teasing. He was beyond waiting. His hand shook as he reached for his zipper. The sound filled the space between their heated breaths. Still entrapped in his dark briefs, he stretched the elastic top and freed his rigid dick. Her sharp gasp drew his attention and he smiled slightly at her wide-eyed stare. He let his gaze travel over her half-naked body. The need to feel his cock inside her roared through him like an inferno. He kicked the pants down his legs and shoved the briefs after them. Parting her legs, he guided 69

Sally Painter

himself into her. The feel of her wet heat against his cock drew a satisfied grunt from him. His cock was so hard his balls pulled tight against him. Every part of him ached for relief. “You have the tightest pussy,” he groaned and eased deeper inside her. Hot velvet folds gave under his entry. Tense muscles clamped around his thickness and he groaned under the grip of her sudden orgasm. Incited, he pumped his cock into her. She tilted her hips to receive him fully, drawing her legs around his waist as he plunged deeper. All thoughts fled under the urgent need to fuck her. The fever burning his body drove him into a wild frenzy. Their bodies, drenched with sweat, slapped together. Her juices coated his cock and his belly stuck to her flesh each time he pounded into her. She cried out, gasping and rolling her hips and then spasmed in another powerful orgasm. Garrett drove harder, his balls slapping against her ass as he pumped in and out of her, wanting to sink so far inside he could never be disconnected from her. Supporting himself on his forearms, he drove his cock into her. Facial muscles tightened and the panther emerged, growling with each thrust into her slick heat. The fire pressed against the tip of his dick and the heated rush shot down his shaft and burst from him, exploding inside her. “Garrett,” she rasped in his ear as she clung to him. Fiery breaths tore from him. His body racked with spasms as the orgasm’s grip began to ease. He didn’t move from her, longing to remain inside her. “Oh God, Jen.” Garrett panted. Sweat drenched him and he rocked in her arms, luxuriating in the throbbing pulses. Slowly he lifted from her to roll onto his back. He tugged her with him and Jen straddled him with his cock still inside her. It was such a feeling of satisfaction and yet he wasn’t sated. The need to feel her come again and feel his cock pumping into her raced through him. He lay looking up at her. “Just lie there,” she whispered and rubbed her hands over his chest. One of her breasts was still exposed while the other remained covered by the bra. She reached behind her and unhooked it so she could slip the straps down her arms. Her breasts, full and round, fell free. Jen tossed the bra over her shoulder to the floor. Garrett reached up to cup her breasts. They were so soft and pliable. She leaned back with a satisfied murmur parting her lips as he rubbed his thumbs over her puckered nipples. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in wavy curls and the vision of her riding him with such abandoned pleasure made him hard again. He was surprised by the sudden erection and chuckled when her eyes widened. His amusement flamed into urgent need. God, she was gorgeous. Leaning down, she brushed her lips over his and Garrett grabbed a fistful of long curls. He claimed her mouth once more.

70

Reunited

Jen moved her lips, loving the way he tasted, hot and sweaty. Knowing she was responsible for such a fierce arousal was exciting. His tongue teased her lips and when she opened her mouth, he thrust inside and twisted his tongue around hers. It had all happened so fast and furious. The sexual hunger was like a separate entity that fed off the arousal and captured them in a wave of feverish need. She’d thought once sated the desire might diminish. After all, he’d claimed it was residual energy from her healing, but at that moment, kissing him and feeling him grow hard inside her, Jen knew what was between them had nothing to do with the healing. The kiss deepened and she drew a breath through flared nostrils. She didn’t want to let him go but broke from the kiss to sit upright. Tilting her hips, she ground into him and leaned into the rocking motion. She didn’t understand what had happened between them in the vision. They’d connected on a level that was new to her and when he’d attempted to deny the instant bond, she had become determined to have him. Jen knew he wanted to make love to her slower this time. She sensed his desire to tease her. The thought made her pulse quicken. He closed his eyes. A crease deepened between his eyebrows followed by a low groan of satisfaction. Tender feelings for him stirred in her. Jen swallowed hard. She wasn’t prepared for this—for Garrett Dermonté. His lips slid into a lazy grin. How could she have anticipated him entering her life? He wasn’t the kind of man a woman prepared to meet in real life. He was the kind of man women found only in their dreams. She wanted to please him. Hell, she just wanted him. All of him. She lifted her hips, drawing his cock to the edge of her opening. Firm hands gripped her hips and a deep growl vibrated in his chest. She smiled when strong fingers dug into tender flesh and she found herself being tugged back down onto his shaft. Running her tongue over moist lips, Jen imagined curling them around his cock as she took him into her mouth. That would have to wait. Next time. Right now, it felt too good having him inside her. “Garrett,” she huffed, her voice trailing off when she met his stare. He knew how she felt. Somehow she sensed he knew everything about her. “I’ve never…what I feel…it’s not from the healing…it’s something else.” “Shh…” he whispered. “Don’t speak it.” Garrett didn’t want to talk about it. Not when he struggled to keep the rising orgasm from erupting. Cum pooled in the tip of his dick. He wanted to make the sensations last longer this time. He needed to taste her and bring her greater pleasure, but when she arched backward, he was unable to resist those full breasts. They lifted under her movements with dusky rose tips hardening into puckered buds. He eased her down his length. She moaned and leaned over him. Dark hair brushed his face and then lashed his body as she rocked back and forth.

71

Sally Painter

“Baby, slow down. Let’s make this last longer this time,” he said and lifted her just enough to ease his cock from her pussy. She whimpered in displeasure over having been unseated. He brought her down onto the mattress beside him and then rose from the bed. “Where are you going?” He stood looking down at her. The mounting heat pumped to his cock and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her hard, but this time he intended to make the pleasure last. “Right here,” he chuckled and kneeled on the bed, bending down to bury his face into lush, firm breasts. Reluctant to move from her, he settled on his knees between her legs. He stroked his cock while cupping a breast with his other hand. Her juices still clung to his length and each time he drew his hand to the tip and palmed it, a little precum released. He squeezed a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and a low murmur parted her lips. His cock was so engorged Garrett wasn’t sure how long he could last, and relaxed his grip, letting the shaft slip from him. Each time he looked down at her, his pulse lurched into a frantic beat. A low throaty groan vibrated in his throat as he let his gaze move over her naked body. She writhed in a seductive rhythm, splaying open her pussy with slender fingers parting her labia. His cock drew tighter and the foreskin stretched back, exposing the pink slit of the crown. All he could think of was finding relief inside her, but he wanted her completely sated before he came. He gripped his cock and pulled the sheath over the tip. When she lifted from the bed, just enough so her breasts brushed his chest, Garrett froze. The contact against his skin was not helping his resolve to wait. He wasn’t sure when he’d given in, becoming aware of the delightful sensation of sucking and licking as he rolled his tongue around a hardened nipple. He drew a rosy tip into his mouth before releasing it to seize the other one. The sharp intake of her breath made his heart hammer. Delicate fingers combed through his hair and he let the nipple fall from his mouth. Wet and chilled against the air conditioning, he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He took the other one in his mouth and flicked his tongue over it. She moved under the suckling and he sensed each jagged streak rushing to her swollen clit. He could feel the edgy need rising in her and knew how she craved his touch. She wanted to fuck him just as much as he wanted. Letting go of the cherished nipple, Garrett raised his head and claimed her mouth. His lips sealed hers. Tasting her was not enough. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on it and then releasing it. She whimpered when he parted her lips with his tongue. He couldn’t wait for her to open to his probing and rushed inside, capturing her tongue with his. God she tasted good, like everything sweet and spicy. He flicked his tongue over hers in a frenzied mating. Groaning, he broke from the kiss and let his stare move over her. Jen lay looking up at him with long eyelashes

72

Reunited

partially shuttering the wanton look smoldering in her brown eyes. A look that moved over her face, drawing full lips into a sultry smile. Dark silky hair cascaded over the pillows and she reached up to draw him back down into a kiss. Garrett supported himself with hands planted on either side of her head. He opened his mouth to her teasing tongue. Sweet paradise. Her tongue darted around his, retreating and then thrusting into his mouth, mimicking his kiss. “Jen,” he groaned against her lips. The kiss erupted into an urgent frenzy of want. She was all there was. The forbidden. “Please,” she whispered and ground her hips against him. Garrett plunged his tongue inside her mouth, claiming what was his, demanding everything and she relinquished it to him, molding herself against his body. She moved to the same crazed rhythm consuming him. Another roar vibrated in his chest and released in a low throaty growl against her mouth. He broke from her and sat back on his heels, his cock stiff and erect in front of him. Her stare traced his torso and flashed with appreciation when she lowered it to his erection. She licked her lips. And he longed to feel her take him inside her mouth. “I need more,” she said, eyelashes fluttering. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Garrett told himself this night would become something she’d regret. She’d blame him once the effects of the healing energy wore off. But the sight of her lying naked, writhing with want, made all concerns insignificant. Her fingers closed around his cock and his heart slammed against the wall of his chest. The deep musk of her sex enveloped him. Beads of sweat trickled over his skin. She tightened her grasp and moved her hand up and down his engorged shaft, drawing his juices to the tip. Garrett shoved her hand away. “I want to feel you inside me again. I came so quickly. I want to…” She rolled her hips and her sweet slit widened, revealing the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen. Garrett licked his lips and lowered his face. Hot and wet, the tender flesh gave under his tongue. God, he’d never felt anything so soft. He gripped her ass, pliable under his hands, and slipped his tongue between the fleshy labia. “Jen baby, you taste so good,” he groaned. Knowing she was wet and feverish for him made his dick throb. She lifted her hips, affording him better access to her sex. “Your pussy is so damn perfect,” he breathed, lapping up her juices and curling his tongue to trace the outer lips of her shaven cunt. She tried to connect with his tongue but he teased her, retreating each time she writhed under his teasing. He buried his face in her pussy, toying with her clit. Her throaty moans filled the room. When he thrust two fingers into her pussy, she mumbled something, moving her hips to the heated rhythm. That was the reaction he craved. It drove him crazy. “I’m going to take you until you scream,” he growled. 73

Sally Painter

Her breathing grew faster with each flick of his tongue. He sucked her swollen clit into his mouth. The whimper told Garrett he’d found the spot. He pumped his fingers in and out of her moist opening, mimicking the way he’d rammed his cock into her during their frenzied lovemaking. Twisting his fingers until they cupped the inside of her pussy, he massaged the walls, seeking the special spot. She cried out, gasping and murmuring and he knew he’d found it. He could feel her orgasm when her muscles clamped around his fingers. He sucked her clit between his lips and thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy as another tiny spasm seized his fingers. “God,” she cried. “Oh, Garrett.” He eased the pressure and glanced up. Her pleased look was accentuated by sensual lips lifting into a dreamy smile. Perspiration glistened over her breasts. He wanted to bring her to orgasm again and withdrew his fingers, wet with her cum. Groaning, he plunged them into his mouth, sucking her juices from them. He wanted more. “Now I’ll show you what it’s like to have a gargoyle lover,” he said in a deep voice. This time he would mark her as his—forever. “Don’t make me beg.” Her voice was husky. She rotated her hips beneath him. Garrett lifted her legs onto his shoulders, tilting her pelvis so he could see the pink slit, ripe for his entry. A pearl bead of cum dripped from the tip of his cock and he drew it over her opening, guiding himself into the velvety folds. He entered gently at first. Inch by teasing inch, he pushed deeper and deeper, watching as his swollen cock slipped past the tightness of her opening. He pulled back and his shaft slipped from her, slick juices clung to it. He thrust inside her once more, this time harder and the walls of her pussy gave. “Garrett, you fill me up,” she panted, and moved with his thrusts. Her words incited him and Garrett quickened his movements, pulling his length in and out of her. Each time he drove deeper she lifted to meet his thrusts. Her muscles gripped him, squeezing his cum a little closer to the tip. Garrett looked down and met her gaze, smoldering with desire. She closed her eyes. Long lashes brushed her soft cheeks. “Open your eyes, baby. Let me see inside you,” he whispered. She said something and her eyes fluttered open. There! He saw her soul. “Don’t stop,” she panted. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop until you’re completely mine,” he rasped. Garrett pounded his cock into her. The sound of his balls slapping against her sent a primal, possessive rush thundering through him. Long bare legs moved from his shoulders to wrap around his waist. He leaned forward, supporting himself with his hands as he plunged inside her. She grabbed fistfuls of linens, tugging against them until the corners of the sheets pulled free.

74

Reunited

He was wild from the wait. She was in his mind, her emotions mated with his. He panted and rammed his cock deeper. She cried out, quaking beneath him. She was his—forever. The walls of her pussy clamped around his cock so hard his breath left him. He threw back his head. His muscles tensed. A deep throaty sound ripped from him. Sweat rolled down his back as the liquid heat thundered through him and erupted from the tip of his cock. Hot cum pumped into her, filling her. Electric pulses jerked him into spasms and Garrett ground himself into her, not wanting to let go of the intense pleasure pulsating in the wake of his orgasm. “You feel so good,” he moaned. Exhausted and fully spent, he nuzzled the gentle curve of her neck and shoulder, still grinding into her in a slow rhythm. The walls of her pussy still clenched his cock, making each throb more intense. He’d never known such pleasure. She was in his mind, sensing his thoughts. Just as they’d melded in the healing, their very souls now entwined in the afterglow. Firm fingertips made swirling paths down his back to his buttocks. Making love to her was worth whatever penalty would be demanded of him. Even banishment. At the moment he didn’t care. It would be a most sated exile. “Garrett…I saw…I saw your soul,” she said in a low dreamy voice. Supporting himself on his elbows, Garrett gazed down into her wide-eyed stare. Damp strands of hair clung to her neck. “And I saw yours.” He lowered his head and captured her lips in a slow kiss. She tasted like him. He broke from the kiss and eased his cock from her, immediately missing the sensation of being inside her. With a deep sigh, he collapsed on the bed beside her. “I’ve never felt like this,” he said, and tugged her into his embrace. “I’ve never felt so thoroughly…made loved to.” She snuggled into his arms. “How could I touch your soul like that?” She curled into him. Her soft lilting words drifted through the sex haze. A haze so thick with satisfaction that at first Garrett didn’t understand what she said until the words seeped beyond the barrier. Guilt rushed in and slipped past his joy, marring the moment. He’d done the unforgivable. He’d made love to a human. He had claimed the Reconciler as his lover. A low rumbling quaked through the room. It moved toward them like a wave rolling across the room. Her body tensed in his arms. “Garrett?” Her voice was small and frightened. “It’s okay,” he said, even though he knew it wasn’t. The bed shook and the windows across from them rattled. “What is it?” She tightened her arms around his neck. “It’s okay,” he soothed. The quaking grew stronger and the bed shook so hard it bounced them about. The lamp by the bed crashed to the floor. 75

Sally Painter

“What’s happening?” Jen screamed and buried her head into his chest. “Shh.” He held her tighter, stroking her hair. “It’s okay.” The rumbling stopped. Silence. “It’s over,” he whispered. The night rushed inside the room. He looked through the window. A dark cloud drifted in front of the moon and blotted it from the world. A presence stirred in the wake of the rumbling and he knew it wasn’t over. The consequences of what he’d done were just beginning.

76

Reunited

Chapter Seven “You know what I like, Bel.” Starn winked at her. “Let’s go into my office.” He spoke softly, yet it sounded as though he stood with his lips pressed against her ear. The music crashed around them and he nodded for her to follow him to the back of the club. Strobe lights cut disjointed beams of blue across the dark room. The boisterous crowd cheered as Starn weaved a path through them, and Bel had to smile. He always had incredible charisma. She dodged the dancing patrons, undulating and rocking in one large mass, as she retreated from the deafening din. He motioned her to follow him through a doorway and down a long hallway. At the end of the hall he ushered her into a dimly lit room. It felt ancient with the ornate furnishings and familiar objects highlighted in recessed niches. It was comfortable. He slammed the door against the pounding beat. Too comfortable. “Man, it’s really wild out there tonight and it’s only Monday,” he spoke behind her. “You spend every night here?” Bel sauntered across the room to the overstuffed furniture. The nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach quickened. How could he have this effect on her after so many centuries? “Well, it is my club. The old crowd hangs here too. Didn’t you see a lot of familiar faces out there?” Bel shrugged, knowing they were the ones who’d started the cheers, probably believing she had come to patch things up with Starn. “So you live in this office?” she asked. “No, I have a houseboat out on the docks. Only fifty steps to work. Life is sweet,” he said, brushing his hand over short-cropped blond hair. The look in his eyes sparked old memories. She glanced away. Feelings she thought long dead sparked to life, raw and painful. Been a long time, Bella.” “It has,” she murmured. Her heartbeat jumped and she stared down at the magazines strewn across the coffee table. One caught her attention and she bent over, noticing how her hand shook when she lifted it from the stack. “What’s up with all this? Demons and Vampires?” She held the dramatic cover up to him and then tossed it onto the table. “Just keeping up with the trade, Bella.” He walked over to her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against the hard erection pressing through his trousers. Bel gasped, not from his brazen move but because it felt so good to be encircled in his arms again. She tensed then gently pulled away, feigning interest in the Third

77

Sally Painter

Dynasty urn spotlighted in one of many niches on the opposite wall. Her body was a riot of sensations—sensations she couldn’t afford to feel for him ever again. “Some things don’t change,” she said, sensing his stare moving over her. She knew the image she struck with the tight shorts she wore and to be honest, she probably had swayed her hips a bit more than usual just for him. “We’re not going to fan any embers better left―” “Smoldering?” His laughter started as a low rumble then bubbled to his throat. “Baby, you still have a great sense of humor. Nothing ever died. It’s still burning beneath the surface.” He moved toward her again but Bel held her hand up. He froze in his tracks. “You forget yourself, Starn. Now are you going to behave so we can talk?” She lowered her hand. “Damn, you’re still holding on to the past, aren’t you?” Starn asked. Bel ignored him and sat down on the thick arm of the upholstered chair, draping one long leg over it. She knew the pose only incited his arousal but she wanted him to remember what he’d thrown away so carelessly as though their mating held no sacred value. Damn him. His stare followed her movements and she closed her legs together, trying not to smile at the trickle of sweat running down the side of his face. Good. He recalled the passion they’d shared. “You ever going to get past all that resentment, Bella?” he asked, rubbing his neck. “You think the pain left in your wake is just some petty grudge?” Bel pursed her lips together and settled what she hoped was a brittle stare on him. Electricity coursed through her and nerve endings twanged awake. She cleared her throat. There was too much history and too much pain to ever recapture what they’d once had. “You weren’t the only one left devastated, love.” He shook his head. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender while taking a step backward. “That memory of yours is too damn long, babe,” he said, using her favorite term of endearment. “If you mean I don’t forget a betrayal then yeah, I have a long memory.” “God, Bella, we’ve been through this a hundred times at least—hell, maybe a thousand.” His expression hardened. “You’re right,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not why I’m here.” “Why are you here?” he asked and gave her a surly half smile. She met the question with silence. “Then tell me how you liked the realtor I hooked you up with. Drink?” He moved to the long sideboard and picked up the crystal decanter. She shook her head and moved from the arm of the chair, sinking into the thick cushion. She crossed her legs and waited while he poured a short drink and downed it. “Your email was helpful. So was the realtor.”

78

Reunited

“Found just the right house for you and ole brother Garrett?” He glanced at her. It was clear he was shaken by her unannounced visit to his club. Her heart had skipped a beat the moment she’d seen him in the club. As much as she wanted to deny it, the fire between them still raged. Bel settled back into the velvet chair, noting the dark-cherry paneled walls. Starn always had such excellent taste. “I came to ask something of you.” She ran a long fingernail over the elegant velvet fabric. “Not happy with the house? Need another realtor?” “The house is fine. This is serious. I need your help,” she said, regretting the words the moment they slipped past her lips. It was one thing to get a referral for a realtor but quite another to ask for the kind of help she required tonight. “Help? From me? Well, make me granite.” His laughter was deep and brought back a rush of memories when they’d been happy and lost in love. The daily pain of living without him tore through her and Bel stiffened her spine. “Okay then, I need your expertise,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but certain he caught the small catch in her voice when she met his stare. Starn had been the best she’d ever had. He was a mischievous soul but she’d had the time of her life with him. If only he’d been faithful. A stab of pain took her breath away. She refused to let the past back into her life— let him back. “Knowing your penchant for fun and games, I thought you’d really enjoy this,” she said. “Did you now? By all means, Bella. I’ve not seen you in fifty years, and you just waltz right into my club as though we saw each other yesterday. I mean we’ve exchanged those emails about you wanting to move here, but I didn’t get the impression it was to be near me.” “It’s a desperate time for us.” She dropped her stare. She had scried and discovered Averyton was the most likely place Tracker would go next. Granted, she’d never suspected the Reconciler would be the one they found, but she also knew Starn had moved to the area last year. As much as she hated to admit it, knowing he would be near was a comforting thought. “Ole Garrett still dodging the Tracker brothers?” he asked. “Just one. Dex. His brother was killed a couple of years ago in a car accident.” Her confidence in convincing him to help slipped. She should have known he’d ask questions she’d rather not answer. “So what’s the deal, Bella?” He plopped down in the chair opposite her. His rakish grin sent shivers over her. Memories of heated nights burst through the dam she’d erected to contain them. Contain him. She shifted in the chair.

79

Sally Painter

“We came here looking for Tracker but there’s been an incident. We think we’ve found her.” “Her?” He shrugged, giving her a blank look. “Who?” Bel sighed and hardened her stare on the man she would have given her life to protect. Once upon a time. A very long time ago. “Ah… You and brother Garrett are still doing the Reconciler gig. God, how ancient of you, Bella. Or rather Pure. I knew Garrett took on that challenge but you too?” he asked and took a gulp of liquor. “Should have known he’d drag you into it with him.” She ignored the remark. Starn and Garrett had been best friends but it had also been a long time ago. Judging by the sarcastic tone in his voice, Starn still bore the wounds of loss. They all did. “I know since you’re no longer involved it doesn’t interest you. Garrett and I and a handful of others took up the dropped torch when things got so bad. It’s taken us hundreds of years but we’ve—” “You’re right. I’m not involved in your save-the-world mission. I don’t give a damn about Garrett and his sacred oath of service to the Sgaith Council. So what do you want from me?” His stare pierced straight through her. Damn him. He wasn’t going to make this easy. “I need you to find Tracker. I sense he’s in town and probably responsible for tonight’s attack on a local woman.” Starn leaned forward. His stare searched hers as though weighing his words before speaking them. “First, I have one question. I heard a rumor that you and Garrett killed a human back in Arizona.” He sat back in the chair and took a sip from his drink. “What?” Bel sprang to her feet, fists planted firmly on her hips. “We don’t kill humans. You know that. We protect them.” “So you and Garrett are still the puritans of the Clisneach Guard while the rest of us have evolved?” His gaze traveled over her. Bel glared at him, refraining from slapping the smug look off his face. “From what I hear, Starn, you seem to have sunk into a dark hole and just can’t claw your way out. You certainly don’t do any protecting. Just killing. And it’s not even demons you’re killing. I heard you gave up that duty to go after vamps and certain humans.” She maintained her composure while the building rage quaked through her. “Bite your tongue. I only slay a vamp when they make the mistake of crossing my path. It sounds like we’ve both been misinformed.” “So which part is misinformation? The slime pit you’re in or killing humans?” she asked. “You honestly think I’d kill a human?” Genuine hurt flickered in his blue eyes. “Do you think my brother or I would?”

80

Reunited

“Look, just because some of us are active participants in the evolution process—” “Evolution? Is that what you’re calling it?” She shook her head, dumbfounded he could believe such delusional nonsense. “What else could it be?” he asked with a sparring challenge dancing in his eyes. “How about mutation?” she blurted out, but immediately longed to suck the word back into her mouth when the pained expression moved over his face. “God, even you, Bella?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m sorry.” Bel sank down into a nearby chair. “Look, I don’t want to argue. I came here for help.” She averted her stare from his. It was too much to bear. That same look was forever embedded in her mind from centuries ago. She mentally shook herself. There was no need to feel guilty. He was the one who’d betrayed her. Bel straightened in the chair. “I can understand others calling us mutants. But you, Bella? After all we meant to each other? Is that how you think of me? As a mutation?” he asked. “Of course not.” Her heart pounded harder, matching the driving beat of the music outside the room. She was over Starn. She was. But looking at his hurt expression, she knew at that moment she’d never be over him. Instinct begged her to comfort him. Instead she tightened her hands together in her lap. “You’re such an elitist, love,” he said. The earlier feelings of guilt gave over to the more familiar emotion she held when it came to Starn. Outrage. “All you Pures think you are so much better than us,” he baited. “So you’ve always said. Why do you blame me for not becoming like you? Do you think it was some kind of choice? I’m the same as I was when we were together. I still uphold the doctrines that govern our race. Doctrines, I might remind you, amended to accommodate those who mutated. So tell me, Starn, how does that make me an elitist?” She couldn’t help but laugh at his flawed logic. “Yeah, I heard all about the summit and how we were officially accepted but we both know it’s a lie. Do you see me reinstated in the Clisneach? Garrett wouldn’t ever accept rogues back as his troops. He doesn’t trust me or any rogue. We’ll never be accepted, Bella. Can you accept me back?” he sneered. “Of course not. After all, you left me because of what the virus did to me. You were afraid you’d end up like me. Just couldn’t stand the thought of no longer being Pure, could you, Bella?” “How dare you. Talk about self-delusion.” Anger swelled in her and felt as though it would burst inside her. “You betrayed me. That’s the only reason I left you, Starn.” Tears pooled in her eyes and Bel squinted, wanting to burn a hole in him. Instead, she looked away. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her reduced to tears because of him. Never again. “Tell me, how many times do I have to apologize before I’m forgiven?” he asked, unable to keep the emotion from his voice.

81

Sally Painter

Thoughts tumbled from him so fast she couldn’t grasp them, but she heard enough to know what he so desperately tried to block from her. Bel’s breath caught in her throat. After all this time he still loved her. And more than that, he clung to the hope that one day they’d get back together. Starn cleared his throat, knowing she’d picked up on the last thought. “No more arguing,” she said. Sadness seized her. If she was truthful with herself she’d admit she held the same hope. Bel stood from the chair, weak-kneed and shaken. “Suits me.” Starn took a gulp from the glass. After a long uncomfortable silence, he spoke. “So why is Tracker on this rampage? Why is he so determined to kill you and Garrett if the two of you didn’t kill his brother?” She walked over to the lighted niche and feigned interest in the Third Dynasty vase. “He blames Garrett for the accident.” “Garrett didn’t kill Tracker’s brother?” “Of course not. We don’t kill our own kind any more than we kill humans.” She managed to keep the emotion from her voice. “So what happened? Dex and his brother gang up on Garrett because our boy never transformed? The Tracker twins were some of the first to evolve, but I can’t believe they’d just hunt Garrett down.”.” “We were living in Nevada. You of all people should know how crazy it is when a gargoyle mutates. I’m sorry I don’t know what other word to use,” Bel said. “Transform is the word we use.” She nodded. “It was like the virus reactivated after all these centuries. Somehow the mut—ah, transformation leaped into another stage with the twins. I don’t know of anyone else who has regressed like they did. They started acting real crazy a few years ago.” She looked up at him, sensing the fear close around his heart. “Regressed? How—” “This new mutation continued until they…” She paused, not wanting to inflict more pain on him but he had a right to know. All those infected were entitled to the entire truth about the virus. She didn’t care if the Sgaith Council had sworn her to secrecy. It wasn’t right. She took a deep breath. Tonight she was going to break that order. “What?” His voice rose an octave. “What did Tracker do, Bella?” “The twins became…demons.” She watched his face contort as her words struck him. “Shit, no! That’s impossible!” He sat up, slamming the glass onto the coffee table. The liquor sloshed over the rim onto the table. “No one has transformed beyond what we are today. And no one has ever gone into a regression like that. No way did they become demons. You’re lying.”

82

Reunited

“Why would I?” Bel asked, trying to steel herself against the chaotic energy bursting from him. “I don’t know. Maybe to jerk my chain. Extract a little revenge by feeding me this outrageous story.” “You know me, Starn, I had plenty of opportunities to get back at you if that was my style. I never would and you know it.” She choked back the tears. As much as he’d hurt her, Bel could never hurt him deliberately. “Why weren’t we warned?” He ran his hand over his head and stood to pace in front of her. “It’s classified information. The Sgaith Council believed if the rogues knew they might eventually regress into demons, then—” “How the fuck did they become demons?” He shook his head as though trying to find some way around the truth. “No one knows, but this information cannot go beyond this room. You can imagine what would happen if other mutated—” She sighed. “If transformed gargoyles learned about this. The last thread of hope for a cure would be broken.” “Well, no shit. It just did. Damn! That isn’t evolution at all.” His face reddened. “Look, I’m sure it was just a rare thing. You know, like birth defects in the human world.” “Oh great, now we’re defects.” “Dammit, I don’t know how to be politically correct in my terminology. It’s just the way it is. For whatever reason, they were once gargoyles and then they contracted the virus, went rogue, and then centuries later, the virus retro’d and they became demons. “However it happened is not why I’m here. They believe if they kill Garrett then the hunt for the Reconciler will cease and she’ll never be found. The demons have come to Averyton because they believe the Abyss is located here. They plan to reopen it and allow the demon army from their world to enter ours. Do you understand what I’m saying? Garrett was their target. Their only target, until tonight when they attacked the woman. The Reconciler. She’s only vulnerable to demonic attack forty-eight hours before the water demon turns seventeen. You remember the Legend don’t you?” “If Garrett is a target then you are too,” he said, grinding the words between his teeth. “So did he kill Tracker’s twin?” Dammit, he wasn’t listening to her. He would only hear what he wanted to hear. “The night the Tracker twins cornered him, Garrett outsmarted them. Their reflexes diminished when they transformed into demons. Dex didn’t react quickly enough and ran over his brother with the truck. It really was an accident.” She bowed her head, hating Starn for opening all the old wounds that went far beyond Tracker and into what felt like eons of being separated from her mate. “We should have been warned,” Starn shook his head.

83

Sally Painter

“I agree. But if you tell anyone what I’ve just told you, the Sgaith Council will punish me for treason.” “I know, baby. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” He glanced over at her. The term of endearment spoken so unconsciously gripped her heart and she mourned what they’d lost. Why couldn’t things have been different for them? Bel bit back the sorrow. She sat down in the chair, staring up at him, wishing she could rewrite history. “There are too many of them. We kill them and more take their place. You remember how underworld demons are.” “Unruly and disorganized bunch,” Starn said. “You’d think after being earthbound ever since the Abyss was first sealed they’d evolve somehow.” “Well, the hybrids have,” Bel said, not wanting to talk about the way demons had seduced humans into bearing them children. “Yeah, their abominations. Breeding with the one thing we’re sworn to protect. The bastards. They may be hellions but they aren’t stupid. Nothing rips me more than an earth demon.” He looked up at her and Bel couldn’t hide the disappointment coursing through her. “Bella. I’m not killing them. I know the rumors that rogues are killing halfbreeds without provocation but I swear to you, I’ve never stepped over that line. I never slay an earth demon unless it’s committing an act against a human or attacks me. Not all rogues are the same. You have to believe me, Bella.” “Starn…” She swallowed the burning knot in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She knew what he so desperately wanted from her but there was too much pain, too much history between them. She couldn’t accept him. She wanted to believe in him again but there was no going back for them. “Look. Tracker has organized them. Underworld and earth demons are serving him.” “And since he used to be one of us he has the advantage. I get it.” “Will you help me, Starn? Can we put the past behind us? Like you said, they want my wings too.” She bowed her head and then lifted her it to look into his eyes. “I-I need you.” She hated herself for having to admit that to him but it was the reason she had come here. His face softened. The angry glint in his eyes melted into a heart-thumping familiar look. “Bella.” He moved to kneel beside her and took her hands in his. Tears glistened in his blue eyes and for a breath-holding moment, Bel felt hope. Hope that one day the rift between them might heal. “Don’t,” she pleaded, knowing she was weak and if he took advantage of the moment, she might lose her resolve. “Babe, I’ll always help you,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her hand. “I don’t care where or how or what. I’m yours. You just have to realize that. Maybe someday you will. Now, tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” He lifted her hands to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on her fingers.

84

Reunited

***** With eyes closed to the dim light, Jen snuggled closer to Garrett, pressing her stomach against his firm buttocks. The contact of his flesh shot streaks of excitement to her groin. Her face flushed as she recalled his passionate lovemaking, recalling every kiss and stroke. Renewed heat twisted around her spine and flashed to her clit. She wiggled against him, letting her pussy brush over his bare buttocks. She wanted him to awaken and ravish her. The mere thought of those fiery deep kisses sent wet heat rushing from her pussy. She squeezed her thighs together. Each time they’d made love, she’d been so aroused she’d come at his slightest touch and then he’d teased her into another orgasm and another. Jen’s stomach fluttered, a feeling of giddiness overpowering her. She recalled the sensation of his tongue flicking against her swollen clit and the urgent need that followed. Her breath hung in her throat. She needed to feel him inside her again. Should she just wake him? She rubbed her cheek against the soft blanket he’d pulled around his shoulders. She’d lost count of the number of orgasms he’d given her. The mastery of his lovemaking had made her feel as though the earth had moved. Of course something had moved. Something had rattled the windows in the house. The bed had bounced across the floor. What could it have been other than an earthquake? Averyton had experienced a few tremors over the years but those were typically so insignificant they went unnoticed. And Garrett had brushed it off, turning her attention to more interesting things. They’d made love until exhausted and fallen asleep with their bodies entwined. It felt so good being with him, sleeping like that. He was different from the few lovers she’d had in her life. Too few. None had lasted much longer than a few months. Her inability to trust had always interfered with establishing a relationship. The heavy weight of sleep shuttered her eyes closed once more and her thoughts drifted into disjointed scenes and conversations. It was too early to wake up. She nuzzled his back, brushing her cheek against the blanket in an upward movement but recoiled when something pricked her face. His body stiffened and he shifted slightly. What was that? She opened her eyes, blinking against the dimly lit room. The dark blanket came into focus. That was odd. She squinted against the vision. Black…feathers? She tried to force the image into something she recognized, such as a blanket, but it didn’t fit. She widened her eyes. “Ohh,” she gasped, realizing it was his wings! She sat up. Streams of light tried to penetrate the heavy quilts he’d draped over the windows. When he stretched out, taking up the space she’d vacated, Jen shifted, trying to glimpse his face but it was blocked by the high arch of one wing. It was fantastic. She stared down at the magnificent dark wings folded against his tanned muscular back. Even after witnessing his flight, Jen had not been close enough to touch his feathers, not even during the healing vision. This was incredible. She recalled the healing and how his face had partially resembled a panther. 85

Sally Painter

She pushed the air from her lungs, forcing herself to take another breath. Calm down. Just wait and see. How would she react to his gargoyle face? Would she care? Jen held her breath and reached out to touch the wing closest to her. It was a timid touch— a slight brush of fingertips over the curving arch that crested a broad shoulder. Excitement filled her, drawing short breaths from her. His face was still blocked so she shifted onto her knees, anxious to see if he looked like he had in the vision. She lifted up but a feeling of dread made her stop. Her gaze traveled the length of his naked body. Straight dark hair fell between the v-shape where both wings crossed in the center of his back. A fan of layered feathers dovetailed just above his buttocks. Round, indented buttocks peeped out beneath the edges of the feathers. Her stare followed to where the wings extended beyond and moved over his long masculine legs stretched out with one leg bent. She’d no idea they were longer than his height. It would require enormous strength to stretch them out just to gain flight. She bit her lower lip. His deep, even breath filled the bedroom in a seductive rhythm. The sound beckoned her to lie back down and snuggle against him. He would wake soon. Her heart palpitated at the thought of a morning love fest with her sexy gargoyle. How easy it would be to forget about her obligations. Being lost in his arms had been like an erotic fantasy. To call him an adept lover was truly a disservice. He was a god. She shook her head. Enough of these thoughts. She had to open the shop and see about the morning deliveries. People were depending on her. There was a funeral that afternoon and if she didn’t ensure the deliveries were made this morning, there would be no flowers. The only person she might have called to fill in for her now had a job. Mrs. Reames had been wonderful when her parents died, but this was Jen’s responsibility. Garrett stirred in the bed. She froze with her legs hanging over the edge of the mattress. His breathing settled back into an even flow. Oh, he would be furious with her when he woke to find her gone. Even though demons rarely attacked during the day, Jen knew they would be watching her every move. The healing had opened her mind, allowing memories to resurface. She recalled many instances as a child when she’d recognized demons moving through the world disguised as humans and even holding down regular jobs working beside humans. She also recalled they didn’t reveal their true natures until nighttime. She surmised it must be against demon nature to attack during daylight. They seemed to have nocturnal drives similar to a bat or—she looked at Garrett—a gargoyle. While demons masqueraded among humans during the day, she suspected it was because they didn’t possess any real powers in the daylight. She wasn’t sure where their power came from since she’d always tried to push such contemplations from her mind. One thing was certain, they owned the night. That was when they wreaked terror.

86

Reunited

She slid from the bed. Going to her shop wouldn’t be a huge risk. She should be safe from attack. And if her theory was wrong, she was confident they wouldn’t risk detection with so many witnesses around. She would be back before Garrett knew she was gone. Jen reached for her clothes but couldn’t find her bra and kneeled down to look under the bed, spying the green lace hidden in the shadows. She lifted the torn panties and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. The memory of the material rending under his eager lovemaking made her edgy and raw with desire. All she had to do was wake him and that feeling would quickly be sated. She licked her lips. Work. She had to get to work. She picked up the bra. There would be other mornings. Right now she needed to find out what time it was. Stepping around the bed, she was mindful of each sound she made. When a board creaked underneath her foot, she halted, holding her breath. He didn’t move. Sighing with relief, Jen came around the bed with her stare glued to him, anticipating what she’d see. His partially exposed face was shadowed by the broad wing. She couldn’t see much and what she saw didn’t resemble Garrett even though she knew it was he. Jen leaned forward to get a better look. She clamped her hand over the gasp. Could it really be him? His forehead was furry—black and silky with a sheen that begged to be stroked all the way down the length of his nose. The bridge of his nose was like a panther’s and even his eyelids seemed different, as though elongated and drawn upward in a point. It was difficult to be certain without more light. She studied the lower half of his face. It was Garrett’s chin and lips. She squinted past the shadows. That was the face from her healing vision and she absently wondered if all gargoyles looked like panthers. She must ask him sometime when she felt comfortable broaching such a topic. She tried to calm the unsettling quiver knotting her stomach. This was surreal. Even though she was looking right at him, her mind, trained to reject what she saw, couldn’t accept it. Yet the automatic programming which always discounted anything unusual didn’t rush in with mindless mantras tumbling from her lips. She really was healed! Gargoyle. Garrett was a gargoyle—a very sexy one. Her gaze travel over his muscled arms and her attention riveted to the tattoo on his arm. The gold Celtic braid and emblem appeared to be real gold infused into his skin. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? Staring down at his naked body, she swallowed the dryness in her throat. Garrett. She reached out to touch him but pulled back, holding her hand against her chest. Time to go! She bent over to collect her shoes and tiptoed the short distance to the door. When she turned the doorknob, the latch clicked free and she jerked around to stare at him. Garrett drew his arm underneath the pillow but didn’t awake.

87

Sally Painter

Jen licked her lips and opened the door to peer into the hall. No sign of Bel. She listened for any sounds coming for the other rooms but the only sound was outside. Birds chirping. She slipped outside and closed the door behind her with a low thud. So far so good. She clutched the clothes to her chest and snuck down the hall to the bathroom, darting inside. “Oh man,” she whispered and collapsed against the door. She hated sneaking out of the house like a coward but she knew Garrett and Bel would not let her leave and she had to get the deliveries underway. She’d then go home and feed the cats. Maybe she’d have time to take a shower before collecting some fresh clothes and coming back here. She finished dressing and slowly opened the door. The window at the end of the hall was also covered with a heavy quilt. Something in the back of her mind sparked. What was it the Legend said about gargoyles not liking sunlight? It was such an obscure story, with most of the details lost over time or confused, oftentimes embellished. Carrying her shoes in one hand, Jen entered the kitchen, relieved Bel wasn’t there. She hurried across the room and out the back door. The night’s humid remnants still clung to the early morning. Her bare feet slapped against the porch floor. She shoved the screen porch door open but paused when the rusty spring creaked against the sudden movement. She glanced back at the kitchen door. Nothing. Relief washed over her and she slowly closed the door. Sunlight filtered through the live oaks in the yard below her. Almost there. She bolted down the steps. A blue jay squawked from the tall oak trees canopying the yard. Jen sprinted over the sandy driveway toward the SUV. In the light of day everything about last night’s scare seemed distant, yet she worried the old fears would suddenly resurface during a weak moment and undo the healing. Trust, she told herself. She had to learn to have faith in the world again. She looked up but stopped when her gaze moved over the SUV. “Oh my God.” She walked toward the rear of the vehicle. The roof was caved in along the back with a large dent in the side. “Damn!” She stepped back to the driver’s door but paused. Maybe leaving wasn’t such a good idea. What if demons were waiting for her in town? Music sounded from the vehicle. It took her a moment to realize it was her PDA cell phone. She opened the door and retrieved her purse. She found the PDA and hit the speaker button without looking to see who was calling. “Where are you? I’ve been calling for twenty minutes.” Eric sounded worried. “I’m running late—” “Everyone’s looking for you. Marcy’s disappeared and the shop—” “Eric?” Static crackled from the phone. “Eric?” Jen glanced down and saw the no signal icon. 88

Reunited

“Dammit.” What did he mean Marcy had disappeared? Why were they looking for her? No one knew about last night. Jen jumped into the SUV and was relieved to find the key in the ignition. She started the vehicle and threw it in reverse, backing into the yard. Her hand shook as she shoved the gearshift into drive and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. Sand and gravel flew out from the spinning tires as the SUV peeled out of the driveway. She didn’t dare look at the house in case she’d woken Garrett. Her arms quivered as she guided the vehicle onto the main road and headed toward town. She held the PDA so she could see when the signal returned and call Eric back. How could Marcy be missing?

89

Sally Painter

Chapter Eight Garrett opened his eyes, still groggy from sleep. What had woken him? The distinct sound of a car engine starting made him sit up in the bed. He jerked around and found the space beside him vacant. “Dammit, Jen,” he growled and tossed the covers aside. He landed on the floor in a run, needing to unfurl his wings but the hallway was too narrow. He sprinted across the kitchen and threw open the door, rushing onto the porch just in time to see the SUV peeling out of the driveway. A growl tore from his lungs, shoving aside the words. Instinct took over. He clawed at the screen door. Anger boiled in his blood and pumped through him in an urgent need to stop her before a demon did. “Jen!” he yelled in a panther roar and lunged from the steps. The unmistakable scent of a demon filled his nostrils. The creature darted out of the woods and into the driveway, giving chase to the vehicle. Garrett yelled. The hellion turned around and yelped, trying to escape back into the grove of pines. Garrett slammed into it. The demon clawed at the ground, trying to get away. Garrett gripped its head and the creature screamed, twisting away from him. The sudden movement threw Garrett off balance. He lifted his wings, desperate not to fall into the brilliant sunlight just beyond the shadow of the house, but the momentum threw both of them into the sunlit driveway. In one swift movement, he snapped the demon’s head and it liquefied. Some of the blood spilled onto him just as the sun struck his body. The hardening moved over his flesh and the gray shell crept down his legs, turning them to stone just as the demon’s remains burst into flame. Garrett mentally called out for Bel to assist him but his yell went unanswered. He was trapped and Jen had no one to protect her!

***** Jen glanced at the dashboard clock. Seven-fifty. Marcy should be at work by now, ready to load the van, but Eric said she was missing. That meant he came in early anyway. Not knowing what had happened was maddening. She glanced at the PDA— still no signal. She’d never tried using it this far out of town. Turning onto another road, Jen and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. Her fingers closed over the phone and suddenly the signal bars appeared. A feeling of being connected to the world once more sent a wave of calmness over her. She pressed the number to speed dial Eric. He answered on the first ring.

90

Reunited

“The shop’s been broken into—” “What?” she asked. “Yeah, and you weren’t home. The cops have an alert out for you. Where have you been?” he asked. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.” “Marcy hasn’t come in yet. Her mom hasn’t seen her and the shop was broken into, but nothing was disturbed. Nothing taken.” Eric’s voice shook. “Okay, I’m sure there’s an explanation for Marcy. She might be waiting to come in right at eight.” “You aren’t listening to me. Her mom says she never came home last night. No one knows where she is,” his voice cracked. “God, Jen, it’s crazy. The cops are asking me all kinds of questions. I have deliveries to make but no van.” “Why are you in so early? You were supposed to be off work until noon—” “Mrs. Reames came to my house around seven this morning looking for Marcy. She discovered her missing when she went to wake her up. She called Marcy’s boyfriend but he’s not seen her so she called the cops. Her mom is out searching and asking everyone she knows. I came on in to work and it was seven-thirty by then so Marcy should have been here. I found the shop door off its hinges and called the cops so now they think something’s happened to her. Something bad. When they couldn’t get up with you, the sheriff went to your house. They think something’s happened to you too. Where have you been? Are you okay?” “I’m fine. Is the sheriff still there?” she asked and was answered by the heartstopping woop woop sound behind her. She looked into the rearview mirror and groaned at the flashing lights of the squad car. “Never mind. I’ll call you back.” She ended the call, checked her reflection and ran her hand through her disheveled hair as the officer stepped from his car, pausing to examine the SUV’s roof. He shook his head and walked over to her open window. “Miss Ormand,” he drawled with a brief nod. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes but she could just imagine what was running through his mind. “Fred,” she sighed. Dread filled her. Of all the people to run into—Fred Thompson, her childhood bully. Her morning was off to a horrid start. “Looks like you had an accident.” He leaned down and removed his sunglasses. Jen stared up at his tanned face, trying to ignore the inquisitive look in his green eyes. “Did you know someone broke into your shop?” he asked. “I was just talking to Eric. Have you found Marcy?” she asked, dreading the answer. If the demons had mistaken Marcy for her… Jen mentally shook her head. “No sign of her yet. When did you last see her?”

91

Sally Painter

“Last night when she left the shop. Can we take this to my shop? I need to see about deliveries for the Vance funeral.” Her heart pounded harder when his gaze moved over her face and down to her clothes. Did she look rumpled and as tired as she felt? She shifted in the seat. “Just slow down there, Jen. We need to talk about your car and why it looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it. What happened?” “A limb fell on it,” she said, not feeling the least bit bad about lying to him. Fred Thompson may have grown up to be the Sheriff of Averyton but he was still a despicable bully. “A limb?” His eyebrow arched higher and he glanced down the side of the SUV. Her sweaty palms slid against the steering wheel. “Well now, where exactly did this happen?” he asked. “Somewhere along the back roads. I don’t remember exactly where. I really need to get to my shop, Fred,” she said. “What you need to do is answer my questions. Where have you been?” He glanced up at the damaged SUV roof. “Why? Am I a suspect for breaking into my own business?” she half-laughed, but her voice hung in her throat when he trained a menacing stare on her. “No, ma’am. Just common courtesy to a local shop owner to give the news in person. Only I couldn’t do that because you weren’t home and not answering your phone.” “No signal. I had no idea there were patches outside of town that don’t pick up signals.” “Yeah? That’s odd. Never known that to happen.” “Well, as you can see, I was out driving.” She shrugged. “No law against taking a drive is there?” “No, ma’am. But judging by the shape your car is in, I’m more than a little concerned you’re involved in something other than joyriding this morning. I don’t believe in coincidence or random multiple things happening to the same person.” He pushed his hat back from his forehead. “Your shop was broken into and one of your employees is missing and now you appear in a vehicle that looks like someone was trying to beat it in.” Jen steeled herself for whatever he was going to say next. Fred Thompson had belittled her after the Halloween incident and taunted her unmercifully. In spite of her better judgment, she wasn’t able to keep quiet. “Since when is a minor accident—” “Minor? You call this minor? Well, I’d hate to see what you’d consider major,” he jeered and plopped his glasses back in place, shielding his eyes from her probing. “I told you a tree limb fell on it,” she said, squinting against the brilliant sun reflecting in his sunglasses. 92

Reunited

“We didn’t have a storm so how could a limb just fall on your car?” “How should I know? I’m not a tree doctor. Maybe it was just old growth.” She gritted her teeth. Her apprehension was quickly being replaced by a growing irritation over his tone of voice. “What do you know about my shop being broken into?” she asked, deciding to divert the conversation away from her car. “Not much. They must have used a ramming rod. Knocked the door right off its hinges and flat onto the floor.” “What about the arrangements in the cooler?” she asked, hoping against hope the flowers had been spared. “Don’t appear disturbed. Nothing does. Just the door.” “Well good,” she sighed. At least she could get the orders out. “From the lack of vandalism, I suspect they were looking for someone.” “Really?” She hoped her look was one of innocent surprise. “Like maybe you or Marcy?” He glanced down the length of the SUV. “I’d say they found you.” “You’re way off base, Sheriff,” she snapped. She’d had enough. She had a business to run. “What time did you leave work last night?” he asked, pulling out a leather bound notepad. “Around two this morning. Check with Eric—” “I did,” he said, flipping through the pages. “And according to Eric Dolby, you pulled a late-nighter. He said he was there until one o’clock this morning and Marcy Reames left about ten minutes before he did.” “That’s right.” She nodded. “So what happened between one and two when you closed up?” His stare hardened on her. “Cleanup. All very boring stuff.” Jen waved her hand in a gesture. “Look, what do I have to do to get you to take this discussion to my shop so I can get my business underway for the day?” “Dammit, Jen,” he said, glancing from the notebook. “I’m trying to help you out here by giving you a chance to explain what happened to your car.” His voice softened with a tone of caring. What was going on? Fred Thompson never cared about anyone but himself and certainly not her. “And I told you, Fred, a limb fell on it,” she sighed. “Where’d you go after you closed up last night?” he asked. “Out riding. Is that a crime?” she asked, glaring up at him. “Well, knowing you and your history, I’d say that’s an unlikely happening,” he smirked. 93

Sally Painter

There! That was the Fred Thompson she remembered. Always some kind of gibe about that ill-fated night when she’d claimed a monster had chased her. “I was six years old, Fred. I grew up,” Jen said, closing her hands into hard fists in her lap. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But why would you be out riding around at two in the morning and then again before coming in to work?” “That’s personal and has nothing to do with who broke into my shop.” “I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant.” He flipped though the notebook, pausing to read something. “I had nothing to do with the break-in. Obviously I’m the victim here,” she said. “I daresay that’s true.” He closed the notebook and returned it to his shirt pocket before leaning down so his face was inches from hers. “But a victim of what exactly?” “Police harassment from where I sit,” she clipped. His expression darkened. For a moment Jen thought he was going to turn on her in an angry tirade. Instead he tugged the hat over his forehead and released a weary sigh. “Let’s get to your shop.” He straightened. Relief washed over her. Finally. “Hey, you got any coffee in that little petal shop of yours?” he asked. “Unless it was stolen,” she said. “Look, get off your high horse, Jen.” He frowned at her. “I’m just trying to make sure no one is scaring you into silence. That’s all.” “Like I said, I grew up. I don’t scare anymore.” She glared at him, daring him to challenge her words. Had she said that yesterday, it would have been a lie. This morning was the first time in her life she’d not awakened afraid. “That’s good to hear.” He nodded but didn’t make any move to leave. “So tell me about Marcy Reames. Her mom’s insisting I file a missing person’s report. You know the girl pretty well? Is she prone to disappearing?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Absolutely not. She’s very dependable. She was a big help when Eric was out.” “When he was out? Was that when his old man had the boating accident?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. She nodded. “Yeah, I hated that. Don’t like responding to that kind of call, especially one of our own. As for Marcy, she’s due in first thing this morning with your van?” Jen nodded. “She knows we have a delivery and she has to be in no later than eight.” He seemed to consider this and straightened as though to leave. “Okay, go on to your shop. I’ll follow you.” He touched the brim of his hat and walked back to his car.

94

Reunited

“About time,” Jen mumbled under her breath. She watched him in the rearview mirror as he climbed into the squad car. The uneasy feeling twisted tighter in her stomach. Pulling back onto Main Street, she speed dialed Marcy. The call rolled over into voice mail. “Marcy, this is Jen. I hope you’re all right. If anything happened to the van, please don’t worry about it. That’s why I have insurance. Just call me as soon as you receive this message. We’re all very worried about you.” She hung up and redialed Eric. “Yeah?” His voice shook. “Did you hear from Marcy yet?” “No.” He sounded irritated. “Did you call her boyfriend, what’s his name?” “Yeah, I called him. He’s worried too. And some woman named Bel has called here for you three times. She sounded upset. Who is she?” Jen drove past the cemetery. A chill slithered up her spine, drawing her nipples tight. She glanced at the eerie crypts and gargoyle statues, expecting the usual rush of panic. She was surprised when a new strength rose in its place, pushing aside childhood terror like a light chasing away the dark. The healing had truly removed her fears. Garrett’s gift. Her vision blurred with tears. Why hadn’t he called instead of Bel? “Jen? Are you still there?” Eric’s voice crackled in her ear. She jolted out of the reverie. “Yeah…I’m here. Did Bel leave a number?” she asked, slowing down at the alley entrance. “Yeah, hang on—” “Just wait. I’m turning in right now. I’ll get it when I come inside.” “But who is this woman? She sounded pretty mad.” Eric’s motorcycle was parked by the building and Jen steered the SUV past it to the end of the alley. He stepped outside the building and waved at her. “Just a friend,” she said and ended the call, once more wondering why Garrett hadn’t called. Had something happened to him? She eased into the parking slot and threw the gear into park. Before she could open the door, Eric jerked it open. “Well, she’s probably going to call again. She’s been calling every five minutes.” “Can you make some calls for me? We need someone to replace the door.” She stepped from the vehicle. “Damn, Jen. Your car…” He took a step back. “What happened?” he squinted, moving around the SUV. 95

Sally Painter

“I told the sheriff it was a tree limb. I’ll tell you about it later,” she answered what she knew would be his next question. Gathering her purse and keys, she started for the shop with Eric on her heels. Bel’s calls were worrisome since she’d expected Garrett to be the one calling. “Why are you wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday?” He hurried to catch up with her. “You didn’t go home, did you? Ah, so this Bel—” Jen turned to him. His eyes widened and his mouth formed into a silent “oh”. “Don’t say a word, Eric,” she snapped and started toward the open doorway. “Not about my clothes or Bel. We both know how Fred is. He’s asking too many questions as it is. I feel like I’m the criminal instead of a victim. So you let me answer his questions. Understand?” she asked just as Fred Thompson pulled into the alley. “Yeah, but—” “Go inside and call that carpenter, you know the one who orders flowers every month for his wife. The newlywed guy.” She stood watching as Fred got out of the squad car. “Peters,” he said, following her stare. “Tell him I’ve authorized you to call. Explain we need a new steel door for the shop. ASAP.” “But what happened to your SUV?” he asked. “Eric,” she said in a low voice and looked up at him. “I need your help. Please.” “Sure, Jen,” he gulped. A worried frown creased his forehead. The sound of a ringing phone drifted from the shop. “I bet it’s that Bel woman again.” “Tell her I’ll call back.” Jen turned and took a deep breath, mentally preparing for Sheriff Thompson’s questions. She knew he’d have more now that he had her cornered. The phone rang again. “Oh, for what it’s worth,” Eric called over his shoulder as he rushed to answer the phone, “the locksmith did come by and said to call him when you had a door for him to work on.” He laughed nervously. “Answer the phone and then call the carpenter.” Jen shook her head and turned to greet the sheriff, shielding her eyes from the morning sun with her hand. “What about that coffee?” he asked, removing the sunglasses and tucking them in his shirt pocket. “Sure, come on in.” She met his look and knew there would be a lot more questions. Something sparked in the back of her mind but faded quickly. “Any word on Marcy?” she asked. “No.” “I can’t wait for her to show up. I need to rent a van.” What could have happened to the teenager? If demons had kidnapped her… Jen’s stomach pitched.

96

Reunited

“You need to call someone to replace this door.” Fred gestured to the steel door leaning against the inside wall. “We propped it up so you could walk inside. You could give the guy who does work for me a call. I have his number—” “Eric’s calling someone right now. Come on in.” She led the way, glancing at the multiple dents in the door. Goose bumps prickled over her arms with the realization demons had been searching for her. Marcy had to be okay. Her thoughts turned to last night. What if Garrett hadn’t saved her? It was too frightening a thought and she glanced at Eric talking on the shop phone. He flashed a worried look at her and Jen smiled, hoping to reassure him. “Damn hard to do that to a steel door,” Fred commented and stepped inside. “Jen?” Eric slammed the receiver into the cradle. “I got hold of the carpenter. He’s on his way over.” The phone rang and he reached to pick it up but Jen stepped in front of him. “I’ll take it. Why don’t you go fix the sheriff some coffee.” She nodded toward the kitchen breakroom and Fred followed him inside.

97

Sally Painter

Chapter Nine Bel paced the length of the kitchen one more time and glanced outside at the empty driveway. Jen had taken a big risk. Garrett was imprisoned in stone and there was only one person who could help them but his phone kept rolling over into voice mail. “Dammit, Starn, where are you?” She chewed on the inside of her lips. Why didn’t he call her back? She clutched the PDA tighter in her hand. It was the first time she was grateful for the mutation that allowed Starn and those like him to move about in sunlight. She almost envied his twenty-four hour mobility. Almost. Even though the council demanded rogues be accepted, Starn was right, the division in their race could not be healed by a mere doctrine. The virus had mutated him. Non-infected gargoyles would always view him and those like him as outcasts— rogue gargoyles, no longer Clisneach. Her pulse sharpened. Rogue or not, he was still the one she loved. Her breathing quickened. She mentally shook herself. She couldn’t get wrapped up in his craziness and there couldn’t be a reconciliation. Not after all this time. She must remain strong against the emotions that seeing him had rekindled. No one, especially Starn, could get in the way of seeing Jen claim her rightful place as the Reconciler. The world would be ruled by demons if they didn’t succeed in protecting Jen. Bel knew she should go out onto the porch and give her brother an update but she couldn’t tell him the Reconciler’s whereabouts were unknown. And she had no idea how to explain Starn being in Averyton. He’d think she was back with Starn. She closed her eyes and rubbed the ache in her temple. Garrett would go ballistic. She tightened her hold on the phone and tried to think of something to say to him that wouldn’t reveal just how desperate things were. “Bel!” Garrett called out. She jumped and blocked his mental probing. They’d had a few glitches in their telepathic connection over the past week so hopefully he’d think that was why she didn’t respond. She ran a hand through her hair. What more could she do? They were imprisoned by the sun. Images of possible scenarios of Jen’s fate at the hands of demons flashed through her mind. And where were the men Starn stationed outside the house last night? She stared out over the yard again, searching for bodies possibly hidden in the woods. Nothing. Had they just walked away from their posts? It wouldn’t be the first time rogue gargs abandoned an assignment. She should have known better. Everyone knew mutants couldn’t be depended on to hold to duty, she reprimanded herself. Why had she expected loyalty from them? Why should they care about protecting Jen? “Bel!” Garrett roared. 98

Reunited

She quickened her pace. And what about the demon Garrett killed just before the sun transformed him into stone? It wasn’t likely to be another loner. It’d probably tracked last night’s demon. She should have woken Garrett when she returned home from Starn’s club last night. They should have moved Jen onto the water then. In the past, she’d have insisted they move Jen immediately. Her pulse sharpened. Was she suffering the first signs of infection? Risk-taking was against her nature. But what disturbed her more was Garrett. She chewed on her lower lip. Why hadn’t he ordered her to take Jen to safety right after the demon’s attack in the yard? What was wrong with him? Was he infected and losing his common sense? Bel shook her head. This was pointless. The damage was done. Their position had been compromised. The demons knew where Jen was hiding. “Bel! Answer me.” She startled and walked over to the door leading out to the porch. She debated rushing outside and confessing the awful truth—Jen wasn’t at work and Starn was in Averyton—until her gaze fell on the statue of her brother. The sight made her wince. In a crouched position with his wings spread wide, Garrett looked as though he’d attempted to lift from the ground just as the sunlight struck him. Garrett had killed the demon. She could see the charred grass around his foot. Why hadn’t the demon attacked Jen? Had it tried? Was that the reason Jen wasn’t at work? Was she hurt? Hiding? So many questions and no answers. “Bel!” His voice boomed in her head. She couldn’t take any more and threw open the kitchen door. Careful to step around the splotches of sunlight spilling onto the screen porch, she walked across the expanse, clinging to the shaded areas. “I’m here,” she said. “Is she safe?” he asked. “I don’t know.” She stared down at him. “Since you didn’t have her cell phone number I had to look up the floral shop. Called the wrong one before I found hers. She’s not there yet. I talked with some kid who works for her.” “We need someone to go into town. Damn this stone!” he roared, and Bel cringed at the deafening sound. “Do you know anyone who can help us?” “I have someone. But he’s not called me back.” “Who?” “You’ll be angry.” “Not if he can help save Jen. Just tell me.” “Starn.” “Starn? He’s in Averyton?” The rising rage in his voice made Bel steel herself for the angry tirade she knew would follow. “Is he the reason you chose this town?”

99

Sally Painter

“Not the way you mean. He helped me find the realtor.” “Why? Why would you even—” “It’s time we get past all these hard feelings, Garrett. The end is near and we’re going to need Starn’s help and those like him.” “Never,” Garrett growled. “Starn can’t help what he is.” “All the more reason not to go to him for help. He betrayed you.” “He wasn’t in control when he did those things—” “So now you’re defending him?” His voice was full of disbelief. “I’m just trying to reconcile the past.” Tears stung her eyes. How could she expect Garrett to understand what she was feeling? The end was coming and she wanted to be near Starn when it did. There, she’d finally admitted it. “There has to be someone else who can help us.” Bel started to tell him about the men Starn stationed around the house last night, but since they’d abandoned their posts, why fuel her brother’s animosity toward Starn? “I don’t know what to say to you, Garrett.” “Try the truth,” he said. “The truth? Then tell me why you took Jen for your lover? We all felt the earth shake last night. Can you imagine what it was like, standing there in Starn’s nightclub, all the gargs there murmuring about the garg who’d turned rogue?” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not a rogue,” he growled. “If I were I wouldn’t be in this fucking stone!” “Why would you risk everything? Why now of all times when the world needs her? This could change everything.” “I-I couldn’t help it,” he admitted. “It wasn’t planned. She has some kind—” “Oh please, you aren’t going to tell me you were spellbound or something, are you?” Bel knew he was besotted. The Reconciler’s power was intense, even she had sensed it the moment she’d met Jen Ormand. “It’s more than a spell,” he said. “I don’t recall anything in the Legend about the Reconciler having a gargoyle lover.” Bel folded her arms over her chest and looked down at him through the screen door. “It doesn’t.” “Then why?” She was loyal to her brother but this transgression was impossible to defend. “And what if the Sgaith Council learns it was you? They won’t hold a trial. Oh, you’ll be brought before them but only so they can pass judgment. I mean, what were you thinking?” “I wasn’t. I’ve never been so turned inside out. It’s like my brain quits functioning and all I want to do—” 100

Reunited

“Spare me the details. You could try blocking your thoughts a bit,” she groaned. “I can’t block anything,” Garrett said with such a feeling of helplessness riding his thoughts Bel felt as though she’d been physically punched. How could she help him out of this mess? She’d cut off her wings if it could save him. “Doesn’t this morning prove to you the last thing you need is to be her lover? She’s destined to save the world, Garrett, not to be your mate.” Bel slumped forward, resting her forehead against the screen door. “Jen Ormand is going to die and you can’t prevent it. If you try, you’ll destroy us all.” Her voice softened. “Don’t say that,” he yelled. “I won’t let her die.” Pain overwhelmed Bel—her brother’s pain. She knew what it was like to give up a mate. Hers may have been ripped from her arms by the virus but at least Starn was still alive. Garrett would suffer a greater loss. Jen would die. His emotions threaded with hers and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I-I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like for you later on. But you know the Legend better than anyone. You won’t be able to save her, Garrett. As much as I wish you could. It’s impossible. Jen Ormand must die or the entire world dies.” He roared with such agony, Bel held her hands over her ears, even though they couldn’t muffle the telepathic sound. “I’ll find a way to save her,” he said. “It’s a fool’s mission,” Bel said, hoping he would give up such a crazy notion. “I have to try, Bel. God knows, I love her.” “You can’t,” she sobbed. “Just as you can’t love Starn,” he said. His words slashed at her heart. “But what if by taking her as your lover you’ve done something to alter the future? What if it prevents the Legend from unfolding as it should? What if no healing comes to our race and we’re doomed to extinction?” She flattened her hand against the screen, wishing she could see into his eyes and be certain if what she thought was hidden in their depths was really there. Garrett couldn’t be infected. It wasn’t possible. Not now. Not when they were so close to the conclusion of their mission. His tattoo was still gold. It hadn’t turned red, the mark of a rogue. “If I’ve altered the future then it means I can prevent her death,” he said. The sound of an approaching car drew her attention up the driveway. Bel steeled herself for another demonic attack. “Who is it?” Garrett demanded. “I’m not sure,” she mumbled. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the end of the driveway, waiting for the vehicle to turn in. The only hope for escape from demons would be to deliberately step into the sun. They’d have to wait for sunset to attack her and by then at least she and her brother would have a fighting chance.

101

Sally Painter

A dark blue truck careened off the road and barreled down the driveway, kicking up a cloud of sand. The dust drifted across the yard as the truck skidded to a halt only a few feet from Garrett. Sand and gravel chinked against the stone encasing him and Garrett cursed the driver. Bel took a step back but her breath rushed from her in a sigh of relief when she recognized Starn and two other gargoyles in the cab. Starn jumped out with the other gargs close on his heels as the threesome hurried toward the house. “Well, well,” he smiled, stopping in front of Garrett. He nodded to his men who turned into the woods bordering the yard. “Looks like the famous warrior slipped up. And judging by that fierce expression, not too happy when it happened.” “Fuck off,” Garrett clipped. “Same to you. I still have telepathic ability, you know.” He looked up at Bel and grinned. “Got your voice mail, baby. Can’t fly in the day so had to drive over. Sorry it took me so long.” Bel started to comment that he could have called when one of the men shouted from the woods. “Boss, they’re over here.” His voice cracked. It felt as though her heart fell to her stomach. Bel now knew what had happened to the guards. “What’s going on?” Garrett asked. “Starn had some of his men guarding the house last night. I guess the demons…” Her throat closed around the words. She’d known the sentries for thousands of years. They’d been loyal soldiers before being infected. Sadness for what was happening to her race gripped her. “Is that where you were last night? Begging him for help?” Garrett asked and she could tell by the tone of his voice he was enraged. “And a damn good thing she did. Otherwise it would be the two of you we’d be pulling from the brush.” Starn turned back to his men. “Put them in the truck and unroll the cover on the bed.” The men set about tending to the gruesome task. “Looks like one of the hellions survived and attacked you,” Starn said, stooping down to examine the burned grass around Garrett’s foot. Knowing Starn’s men had been guarding the house infuriated Garrett. For Jen’s sake, he should be grateful, but Starn was the last gargoyle he’d ever ask for help. His blood pumped harder. Visions of Jen being kidnapped and taken to the swamp tortured him. Damn demons loved their swamp rituals. A growl vibrated in his chest but the stone prison prevented him from releasing it. “Yeah, it must really suck being stoned and not able to defend your charge, man.” Starn stopped in front of him. “When the sun sets, I’m going to kick your ass,” Garrett snarled. 102

Reunited

“So that’s the thanks I get for saving your little Reconciler?” “Bel?” Garrett’s anger boiled and his sister’s thoughts broke from their connection. The last one he wanted to know about the Reconciler was Starn. That was a big mistake. What was his sister thinking by involving Starn? “I’m sorry, Garrett. I felt he deserved to know whom he was protecting,” Bel said. “This is protection? Do you see her here?” Garrett seethed. The sting of his sister’s betrayal rubbed raw. “Your derelicts let her just drive right out of here.” “My derelicts gave their lives for your precious savior, so show a bit of respect.” “Yeah, I respect freaks who’d just as soon kill a human as protect one,” Garrett spat, knowing how Starn and his kind hated being called freaks. He could sense Starn’s outrage. “Dammit, Garrett, I was your lieutenant. You were more than my CO. We were best friends. You’re my brother-in-law. Why can’t you for one second remember all that? I haven’t forgotten any of the past.” “I haven’t forgotten what you did to my sister.” “Stop it,” Bel screamed. Her voice, filled with anguish, only made Garrett hate Starn more. He watched Starn freeze in his reply and turn to look up at Bel. The same pain in her voice reflected in Starn’s expression. Garrett could sense the agony ripping through his sister and strained against the stone to break free. He would kill Starn for causing her more pain. Starn turned to him. “I thought for old time’s sake you could at least respect the sacrifice my men gave.” “I respect the deed but don’t ask me to respect you. I don’t respect anyone who hurts my family.” “I had no control over that, you bastard. For the last time, it was the fucking virus, man. It takes hold of you—controls you. Understand? That whole transformation period threw me. I didn’t know what I was doing for almost a month. Hell, I never wanted that woman. I never wanted any of them.” Starn glanced up at Bel. “I swear to God, Bella, I want only you. You’re my mate.” “I’ve heard all this before,” Garrett interrupted. The flurry of Bel retreating inside was followed by the slamming of the kitchen door. “You sorry son of a bitch,” Garrett yelled at Starn. “Why do you continue to put her through this every time she sees you? I’ll never understand how you could be with another female when you already had a mate, my sister.” “It was the virus, dammit, why can’t you grasp that?” Garrett hardened his heart against any sympathy he might have once had for Starn. Hurting Bel condemned his friend to the role of eternal enemy.

103

Sally Painter

“I explained it all to Bel. You can’t know what it’s like, those first weeks. The virus makes you lust crazed,” Starn explained. Garrett didn’t respond. He didn’t want to hear it. He certainly felt crazed last night. He blocked his thoughts from Starn. “Ah…fuck you! Bel’s my mate. She always will be. I’ve never let her go,” Starn yelled. “Well, she sure let you go. Do you think because my sister asked you to help that you’re back in the Clisneach Guard running recon missions?” Garrett asked, amazed at Starn’s audacity. “You should be a hell of a lot more grateful, man. My crew died here protecting her and you. They were still trying to save and protect,” Starn said. “Forget the demons, man. Do you have any idea how many enemies you two have just within our kind? I’ve kept Bel safe all these years.” “Our kind? You mean your group of freaks?” “You bastard.” Starn threw a punch at Garrett, grazing his face. The impact vibrated through the stone and Garrett wished it would be enough to crack the shell open so he could return the blow. Just a small break and he’d be free long enough to land a good punch before the sunlight set him to stone once more. Of course, that wasn’t possible. There was no way to break the stone of a gargoyle. It would be like tearing away one’s skin. “Damn stone,” Starn cursed. He held his hand to his chest, covering it with his other hand as he bent over in pain, moaning. One leg gave out from under him and he fell to the ground. Garrett pushed against the stone prison and it gave. The sound of it cracking shocked him. Impossible. His heart slammed against his chest and he flexed his muscles, willing the stone to shatter from him. Another crackling sound traced the unrelenting pressure around his arm. Garrett flexed his muscles and the stone broke around his arms. The sound of the back door slamming drew his attention. He strained to lift his head and the granite snapped along his neck and shoulders. “Oh my God,” Bel cried out. “Garrett, what’s happening?” Drawing a deep breath, he shouted and pushed against the stone with all his strength. The thick shell shattered from him, falling to the ground, reminding him of the stone wall falling around Jen when he’d healed her. “No,” Bel sobbed. “It can’t be true. Garrett, no.” “Well, I’ll be damned,” Starn said, cradling his hand. “Ole Garrett is a fucking mutant. Your face looks human, man, not like a daylight Pure.” He threw back his head and released a loud laugh. Garrett stood in the brilliant sunlight, feeling the warmth move over his body. A chalky powder covered him in splotches as stone residue clung to him. Staring at his

104

Reunited

torso, he lifted his head and squinted at the sunlight, shocked when he didn’t turn to stone again. He glanced up at Bel. “It’s true. Your face looks human.” She covered her mouth with her hands and sobbed. He was infected! He could no longer deny what he’d feared the most. With the proof came a mixture of relief and anger. “You’re a freak too,” Starn laughed, clutching his swollen hand. Garrett stared down at him and then back to Bel. There was nothing he could say to comfort her. He was free and could now rescue Jen. “Bel, throw me some clothes. Hurry.” He turned at the sound behind him, prepared to fight Starn’s men. Instead they ran past him to help Starn to his feet. “Come on, man, we’ll get you back to the marina.” “I can’t leave just yet. I’m enjoying this freak show too much,” Starn said and stood in front of Garrett. “I bet you’ve been going through hell the past few days or so. Uncontrollable urges to fuck every female you saw. Wait a sec.” His eyes lit up. “Now I get it. That was you last night. You and that little Reconciler making the world quake.” He doubled over in laughter. Garrett wanted to slam his fist into the gargoyle’s face. Instead he tightened them by his sides. Why shouldn’t Starn laugh? It had to be the greatest moment of satisfaction in his miserable life. The irony was beyond cruel. Garrett shrugged off the self-pity, choosing to view it as a blessing because now he could save Jen. “Here…” Bel opened the screen door and dropped the clothes to him. Garrett caught them and pulled on the pants commando-style. “What’s wrong with your hand?” Bel asked Starn. “He’ll eventually heal.” Garrett glared at Starn while zipping the pants. “You know I won’t, man, not completely, and neither can you now.” Starn held his injured hand to his chest. The two gargoyles stood on either side of him. “Then you’re not of any more use here. Take him home and see about your dead.” Garrett planted his hands on his waist. “What? That’s it? You aren’t going to apologize now that you know what it’s like to be infected?” Garrett walked barefoot over to Starn. Raw fury raged in him, longing to find release. “Let’s get one thing straight. The bad blood between us has nothing to do with what you became. It’s about you betraying my little sister.” He ached to pound his fists into Starn’s sneering face yet couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Lifting his wings, Garrett prepared to catch the wind whipping off the bay. “Can’t fly either, man. That’s why I have a truck.” Starn tried to goad him. “First time out of stone, your wings don’t retract, but they will in a few secs. It’s like a reflex to sunlight.” 105

Sally Painter

Garrett felt he could fly and lowered his wings and then drew them up once more. “Garrett!” Bel cried out. “Your wings…” He looked over his shoulder and met not the expected black feathers but red ones. Blood red tinged with black tips. “What happened to your wings?” Bel asked. Starn stopped laughing. “Shit, man. I’ve never seen anything so weird.” Garrett moved his wings around his torso to examine them. They had actually turned red. He shook his head. What had happened to him? Was it because of last night? Had his lovemaking with the Reconciler somehow made him immune to sunlight? And what could explain his red feathers? “Your Clisneach seal…” Bel mumbled and he looked at his arm. Instead of the red mark of a rogue, it was blue. “It doesn’t matter, man. Whatever the color of your feathers or your seal, I’m telling you, flying is just one of the many abilities you’ve lost. You can walk around in sunlight but no flying.” The air current caught beneath his wings and Garrett lifted from the ground. Starn’s tirade broke off. Looking down at the shocked upturned faces, Garrett grinned. “You’re assuming I’m a mutant, Starn. Maybe I’m something else.” He laughed at Starn’s surprised look and flew higher. He figured it was just a matter of time before he lost the ability to fly during the day but for now he intended to find Jen. As for the change in his wings, perhaps it was due to the sun or maybe it was some latent hormone released by his intoxication with Jen. He didn’t care. He could fly in the daylight and that meant he could save Jen. “Garrett. You might need this,” Bel called after him and tossed a silver object from the open porch door. He caught the cell phone and flew toward town.

***** Jen lifted the phone to her ear, glancing at the sheriff as he followed Eric into the breakroom. “Hello? Is anyone there?” The man’s voice startled her since she was expecting the call to be from Bel. “This is Jen Ormand, how may I help you?” “Yeah, I want to order some flowers,” the man said. “Okay, please hold a moment.” She reached for the pen but it slipped from her grasp and fell onto the floor. Stooping down to pick it up, Jen noticed a shadow fall over the floor and glanced up to find the sheriff standing in the doorway watching her. “Is that news about Marcy?” he asked. “Just an order.” She tried to calm the nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Okay, what do you need?” she asked, clearing her throat.

106

Reunited

She took the order and then set about arranging for a rental van to be delivered to the shop. She could sense the sheriff watching her as she finalized the details for the van. “Everything okay?” His lips slid into a cold grin. How she remembered that look. The bully look, she’d dubbed it. Jen nodded and finished the call with the rental agency. As soon as she returned the phone to the cradle, it rang again with another order. She glanced at Fred, hoping he’d take the hint that his eavesdropping was not appreciated. He turned away. “Uh-huh.” Jen stole a side glance while she took the order. He stood in the doorway talking with Eric. A tall man, Fred had the classic appearance of a law enforcer with broad shoulders and a great build. It was too bad he was such a despicable person. She wondered how he’d been elected. Perhaps the townspeople preferred his military style to the former sheriff’s laidback approach. Something fluttered around his body and he disappeared. Jen blinked and he materialized again. It happened so quickly she told herself it was an illusion. She’d blinked and that was what made it appear he phased in and out. He leaned back to stare at her. A stare that bored into her. Jen shivered and looked blindly down at the pad. Her mind whirled. She had not just seen that. “Are you still there?” The customer’s voice jerked her back into the conversation. “Yes. I have that.” She scribbled on the pad, but her hand trembled so badly she couldn’t read what she’d just written. “We can have those delivered this afternoon. How do you wish to pay?” Even though she was distracted, Jen managed to take down all the pertinent information and end the call. Trusting her instincts was new and even though she was healed, Jen didn’t possess any coping skills for this new reality. If only Garrett were there. Maybe she should have waited for him to awaken, but she knew he wouldn’t have allowed her to come into town. It was a good thing she had because the police were looking for her. Not showing up for work would have been disastrous. Besides, missing the delivery to the Vance funeral would have put her out of business. Mr. Vance had been the mayor when she was growing up. His would be the largest funeral the town had ever known. It would require two loads to deliver the arrangements. With only one other florist in town, she knew her competitor probably had as many orders as she. Chewing on the tip of the pen, she was tempted to return Bel’s call. Just hearing Garrett’s voice would calm her. She stared at the number Eric had written on the top of the order pad with Bel scrawled beside it. She glanced at Fred. She didn’t dare call as long as he was hanging around. “Were you able to get a van?” he asked, wandering out of the breakroom into the workshop.

107

Sally Painter

“What?” Jen rubbed her head, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “I did. How about that coffee? It smells ready.” Before she could usher him back into the small breakroom, Eric appeared in the doorway holding a disposable cup. “There you are, Sheriff. Ready to go. Just like the fast-food places.” He handed the policeman the coffee. Steam drifted up from the tall cup as Fred took a sip. A faint glow glimmered past the curling vapor. Jen’s breath caught in her throat. Had she just seen him phase out through the condensation? She couldn’t be sure. How could she believe what she saw? Living as a healed person was proving more difficult than anything she’d ever done. Another wisp of steam lifted in front of him and again, he seemed to shimmer and disappear in the stream of mist. Trembling, Jen moved past him into the breakroom and over to the coffeemaker. Her mind reeled. She’d seen such phenomena all her life and the doctors had convinced her it was all in her mind. But she was healed now. She shouldn’t be having these illusions. Her mind raced. Fred Thompson was a demon! Her breathing quickened. If he’d wanted to kidnap her, why follow her back to the shop? Why not just force her into the squad car and— His walkie-talkie burst with a loud beep. Jen jumped and he glanced at her as he retrieved it from his belt. Static and garbled talking filled the shop. “Say again,” he said. More static followed. Jen turned her back to him and lifted the carafe from the coffeemaker. Her hand shook as she poured the hot liquid into a cup. Sensing a stare, she glanced up to find Eric standing beside her. Meeting his questioning look, Jen gave what she hoped was casual smile. “Say again, over,” Fred said. The response was louder static with unintelligible talking. “Damn concrete building,” he snarled and headed outside, talking in the mic. “Come back.” “We’ve got…in progress…boys’ camp…” The voice drifted away from the shop into the alley and grew clearer as he moved further away. Jen held the coffee cup between her hands, trying to regain her composure. She met Eric’s questioning look. He opened his mouth and she shook her head. Fred rushed back in, poking his head around the door. Startled, Jen turned, sloshing coffee over her hand. The hot liquid felt like melted wax dripping over her flesh. Unbidden images of demons and fires in the swamp flashed in front of her. “Well, it looks like things are under control here for the time being.” Fred retrieved the sunglasses from his shirt pocket and looked from Jen to Eric. “If you hear from Marcy call me immediately. I’ll check in with you later today. Thanks for the coffee,” he said, holding the cup up as he turned and left the shop.

108

Reunited

Jen waited until she heard the car door slam and the car engine start. “Eric.” She released her breath, setting the coffee cup down and wiping the spill off her hand with a napkin. “I’ve rented a van and they’re delivering it in ten minutes. Can you get it loaded and make the deliveries? I think it’ll take two trips for the Vance funeral. Also, I had two orders come in this morning, but they’re standards already made up and in the cooler. I left the order pad by the phone. All you need do is add the cards.” “Yeah sure. No different than what I do every day. But what’s going on, Jen?” “I’ll be back in an hour to close up. Once you’re finished with those deliveries park the van in the alley and leave the keys inside. The rental company will pick it up later today. Then I want you to take the day off.” “You’re closing the shop?” “I’ll call the answering service and have the calls forwarded to Brady’s Flowers.” “But why? How long?” His face tightened in a worried frown. “It’s only for this week. I can’t explain it to you right now. Don’t tell anyone, especially Fred Thompson, that I’m closing. He’ll know soon enough. Can you manage?” “Of course, you know I’ll do whatever you want, Jen, but where are you going?” “I have to go home and get changed and then I’ll be back to lock up if the carpenter gets here in time,” she said, walking toward the work area. “But Jen, I really need to talk with you. I mean, what do you think happened to Marcy?”

109

Sally Painter

Chapter Ten The look in Eric’s eyes held the same panic gripping Jen. “I-I don’t know what happened to Marcy,” she said, trying not to think about the girl. If the demons had Marcy…Jen could never live with the guilt. Retracing her steps to the shop phone, she ripped off the two orders and tore Bel’s number from the corner on the top one. “Here.” She handed him the orders. “Don’t forget them. Now, if Bel calls again, give her my cell number.” She grabbed her keys from the counter. “Someone sure wanted in, didn’t they?” The voice rang from the alley entrance. Jen turned to find the carpenter, a middle-aged man, examining the beat-in door. “Can you get it replaced today?” she asked. “I don’t see why not. I took the chance it was a standard door and picked one up on the way over.” “That’s great.” Jen nodded and turned back to Eric. “Just make sure the deliveries are on time. Okay?” she asked in a low voice. The anxious look on Eric’s face didn’t instill confidence. “I can handle things,” he said, but his expression looked like a child being left in a strange daycare. She touched his arm, wishing she could confide in him and ease his worry. He’d never believe her, and the less he knew the better, especially if the sheriff returned asking more questions. A chill snaked up her spine. Fred Thompson was a demon. She should have known. Jen reached over and erased the phone IDs from the memory base. If Fred came back and tried to find out who’d called, he’d have to go through official channels. “Why did you do that?” Eric whispered beside her. “I can’t answer your questions, Eric, but I promise I will later.” She hurried over to the desk in the corner and pulled out the checkbook and wrote a check. She tore it free and handed it to him. “I might not be back before you leave so here’s your pay for the week.” “I’m not taking money for work I’ve not done.” Eric shook his head and put his arms behind his back, refusing to take the offered check. “Don’t argue with me.” She ignored him and stuffed it into his t-shirt pocket. “You’re just going home for now, right?” he asked in a strained voice. “Yes.” She turned to write another check for the carpenter, leaving the amount blank. She tore it free and handed it to him. 110

Reunited

“Just fill in the amount and leave the bill on my desk.” It wasn’t anything new, she’d often left a blank check for a repair or service person for Eric to complete. “But—” Jen turned from him, not giving him a chance to protest. She stepped past the carpenter on his way in with the new door. “I left a check with Eric for your bill.” “Thanks, Jen.” He smiled and set the door down. She hurried to her vehicle and jumped inside, anxious to leave before Eric could ask any more questions. She started the car but glanced back at the shop and saw him sulking in the doorway. A pang of guilt cut through her. It was unfair to leave him like that without discussing Marcy, but if the sheriff was a demon he could come back and take her into custody or arrest her on some pretense. She reasoned he’d been thrown off guard when he’d seen her car and realized he must not know everything going on in the demon world. Still, he had the legal power to arrest her or take her in for questioning. Anything could happen. She guided the SUV out of the alley and onto Main Street, placing the torn paper with Bel’s number on the dashboard. She leaned forward to read it while punching in the numbers. If she could just speak with Garrett— “Hello,” an elderly man answered, taking her aback. “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number. I was calling Bel.” “There’s no Bel here.” “Excuse the call.” Jen closed the phone and looked at the number again. Great. Eric had written it down wrong. She sighed. Okay, don’t panic. She’d just have to wait for Bel to call the shop and get her cell number from Eric. As she neared the cemetery, Jen stared beyond it to the corner where she’d wrecked the car. Images of last night were like broken slices of a video. She pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard, speeding up while forcing her stare away from the grotesque statues hanging over the church roof. Why did they look so horrible when Garrett didn’t? And most importantly, why were the demons after her? Was it because she could see them? Had they just been waiting for her to return to Averyton after being away for so long? If so, why had they waited until last night to attack her? She was full of questions—questions Garrett might be able to answer. She needed to hear his soothing voice. She rubbed the dull ache in her temple. Why hadn’t Fred taken her when he’d stopped her? Too many witnesses? Or, maybe he didn’t know about the other demons. Her mind whirled. And then there was Marcy. Her stomach knotted and she said a prayer that the teenager was okay. Not knowing where Marcy was just made Jen more anxious. The girl’s poor mom must be crazy with worry. She made a mental note to call Mrs. Reames once she’d fed the cats and was safely back at Garrett’s house.

111

Sally Painter

She tried to massage the knotted muscles in her neck. What she needed was a long relaxing bath with Garrett. Her pulse sharpened. Her body flushed at the thought of making love to him. She could still feel his hard muscles beneath her hands. She loved the way it felt when his strong arms wrapped around her. Every touch was forever imprinted in memory. She shook her head. No distractions. She needed to go inside the house, feed the cats, gather some clothes, and get out as quickly as possible. She turned the SUV onto her street. Stay alert, she told herself. No thinking about Garrett and his passionate lovemaking. She pulled into the driveway. The neighborhood appeared normal— deserted. With only a few older couples left in the historic district, most of her neighbors were young families and worked long hours during the tourist season. Her antebellum house looked the same as it had yesterday morning when she’d left for work. How could the world change so quickly in twenty-four hours? White columns supporting the second floor balcony glistened in the morning sunlight. She parked the SUV but hesitated to go inside. Had the demons come here too? Fred hadn’t mentioned any damage to her home. But could she trust anything he said? Sliding from the vehicle, she shoved the PDA beneath the waistband of her shorts and took a cautious step around the house. Her pulse drummed in her ears. What if demons were inside, waiting for her? Suddenly she regretted the decision to come home alone, but concern for her cats won out over being sensible. Poor babies would be hungry and anxious over her absence all night, and besides, she needed fresh clothes. Bright sunshine reflected across the patio. Jen quickened her stride but paused when she realized the reflections were caused by pieces of shattered glass strewn over the brick pavers. She flashed a look at the back door. It was gone. The police had already checked the house, so this was recent damage or else Fred had done it. There was no one to call for help. Her heart pounded. Looking around the yard, nothing seemed out of place. Hesitating outside the house, Jen dreaded going inside. The demons had probably left the moment they’d discovered she wasn’t home. And if they’d come upon her cats then they’d surely fled. Cats were the only thing she knew a demon feared. A small fact she’d forgotten during the years she’d been away. Memories unfolded in front of her. A frightening night when she’d awoken to find a demon clawing at the screen of her open bedroom window. Her cats had hissed and growled. The demon had let out a frightened shriek and fallen into another demon on its way up the side of the house Afterward, she’d made sure her cats slept with her every night. She now realized it hadn’t been the drugs that stopped the demons. Word must have spread about her cats and none dared to attempt breaking into her bedroom again. She licked her lips. She’d described the incident to her doctor and his response was to increase her medication. Jen rubbed her aching temple. Everything she’d experienced as a child was automatically discounted. There were still so many questions with no

112

Reunited

answers. Why had there been such a lapse in time from the cemetery attack to the one in her home? Garrett said it was all about timing. She must ask him to explain. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Bolstering her courage, Jen stepped closer and found the door splintered into pieces and hanging from its hinges. Poor cats were probably hiding. She’d put them in a carrier and then dash upstairs to pack some clothes. Glass crunched under her shoes as she stepped through the doorway. It was an eerie feeling when she stopped inside the kitchen. The house was dark. Flies had entered through the open doorway and buzzed around the room. Cold air blasted from the overhead vents sending a wave of chills over her. Jen flipped on the lights and the kitchen came alive. Once more it felt like home. She took a timid step across the room. “Charli? Tiki?” she whispered, but there were none of the usual meow greetings in response. Like her shop, only the door had been kicked in. Everything else appeared untouched. Fred Thompson was probably responsible for this. At the very least he was aware of it. Jen’s pulse spiked and a cold sweat broke out over her. Her cell phone rang and she jumped. Taking a deep breath, she pulled it from her shorts. “Hello?” she answered, not bothering to look at the number calling. “Jen?” Bel’s voice rang on the other end. “Where are you?” “Bel? Can I speak to Garrett?” “He’s not here. He wants you to—” The phone beeped. Jen groaned when she saw the battery bars were no longer showing. She hurried over to the kitchen desk in search of the charger. She rummaged through the drawers but couldn’t find it. Dammit. What did Garrett want her to do? Leaning over the counter with her hands planted in front of her, she tried to calm her jangled nerves. Maybe she’d left the charger upstairs in her bedroom. She’d be fine once she talked with Garrett. A noise from the foyer snapped her attention. The sound of glass crunching underneath a foot made her pivot to the back doorway. She gasped when a tall man stooped to enter the house. Adrenaline pumped through her and her knees weakened. Grabbing a knife from the block on the counter, she held in it front of her. “Get out!” she yelled, assuming he was a demon sent to kill her. The knife wobbled in her grip. The man frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He wore a dark t-shirt and pair of khaki pants and sandals. His brown hair was cropped short, military-style. He looked around the kitchen, reminding her of a soldier scoping out enemy territory. “I don’t care who you are, get out of my house,” she said, trying to sound braver than she felt. Instantly, Jen regretted coming home. They must have been watching the 113

Sally Painter

house, waiting for her. She noticed the man didn’t have an aura. Gargoyle. She released an uneven breath, hoping Garrett had sent him. She shoved the phone into her shorts. He walked closer and she gripped the knife with both hands. “What do you want? Why are you here?” His stare raked over her and he folded muscled arms over his chest. His t-shirt sleeve stretched under the movement and she glimpsed a tattoo similar to Garrett’s only his was red. He had an edge about him, something she couldn’t quite place and his energy was very different from Garrett’s. Jen backed toward the hallway leading to the foyer. “No need to get all excited. I’m just here to make sure you stay put.” A sound coming from the foyer drew her attention just as a shadow fell over the foot of the staircase. A man stepped down from the landing into the foyer. Jen scooted behind the work island, still holding the knife in front of her. He entered the kitchen, nodding at the gargoyle who’d entered from the patio. Immediately she checked for his aura and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t see one. Standing there, shivering like a dog in the rain, she knew she wasn’t much of a threat to them. “D-Did Garrett send you?” she asked. “Where is he? I was just talking to Bel when my battery died.” “Garrett?” the first gargoyle choked and shot a worried glance at his accomplice. “What’s going on, Red? I thought this was a clean job,” the gargoyle from the foyer asked, looking from her to the one he called Red. “When did Garrett get into town?” Red asked her. “Shit, she knows Garrett.” The second one edged back toward the foyer, glancing over his shoulder as though preparing to escape. “Hang on, Jackson. Don’t panic.” Red turned to her. “How do you know Garrett Dermonté?” Good, they seemed to be afraid of Garrett. Jen wondered if she should just blurt out Garrett was her lover and Protector. Such an announcement might make them run away in fear or make them more determined to do whatever they came to do. “What the hell is that?” Red walked over to the counter, squinting at her. “Jackson? Do you feel that?” he tilted his head and asked his cohort. “There’s something different about her.” Jackson shifted back into the room and stared at her. “Yeah, man. She’s got some kind of vibe there. It’s making me…” “Horny,” Red finished the sentence. Jen’s heartbeat quickened. “I’ll be damned.” Jackson’s expression transformed from one of disbelief into surprise. “Do you think she’s…damn, Red, I remember hearing the Clisneach were

114

Reunited

given a special ability to pick up the scent of the Reconciler. Maybe even us rogues have that ability. Do you think she might be the—” “It’s just a legend, man,” Red wheezed. “Then why have Garrett and the Clisneach been searching for her all these years?” Jackson asked. Jen tried to follow their conversation. Garrett had been looking for her? What was a Reconciler? “I just want a taste of her.” Red smiled, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Jen looked about the kitchen for a better weapon. She felt cornered by a couple of animals discussing their prey before pouncing on it. “If she’s the Reconciler…” Jackson’s voice trailed off as though he was contemplating something. She wanted to run but there was no place to go. She was trapped. Why hadn’t she just gone back to Garrett’s instead of coming home? “This changes everything. I never thought Garrett would find her.” Jackson stared at her. “The Clisneach have been searching for her for almost seven hundred years, ever since the virus began.” “I don’t know what she is but she don’t look like any fucking warrior,” Red scoffed. “Hey man, she just asked if Garrett sent us.” Jackson ran his hand over dark cropped hair. Jen noticed that he also had a red tattoo on his upper arm. “Man, if that damn legend is true—” Red shook his head. “Are you the Reconciler?” Jackson asked. “What’s a Reconciler?” Jen regretted asking the moment the words left her mouth. “See, she’s no more the Reconciler than you, Jackson.” “Yeah? Then explain this energy coming off her.” Jackson held his hand out in front of him, moving it back and forth, palm facing her. “You tell me why any human would have this kind of energy radiating off her and affecting us if she isn’t the Reconciler.” “This is bullshit,” Red said. “Then why are demons so hot to get their claws in her?” “Who cares? She’s got a demon mark on her. Tracker wants her. That’s all we need to know.” Jen watched the two gargoyles with no idea what they were talking about. What mark? “’And she shall appear to those who no longer believe and they shall know her by the essence radiating from her and the staunchest disbelievers shall fall to their knees in submission. The Reconciler shall bring them redemption’.” Jackson licked his lips. Was the passage he quoted from some kind of gargoyle bible? “She’s got the essence, man.”

115

Sally Painter

“Where does it say the essence makes us want to fuck her?” Red grunted. “Yeah, that part is a surprise,” Jackson said and moved closer to her, sniffing. “Stay away from me.” Jen tightened her fingers around the knife handle. Of all the things she’d feared over the past few hours, sexual assault hadn’t been one of them, until now. Jackson sniffed. “Take a sniff,” he said, his voice shaking. “Go ahead. Do it.” Jen watched the fear move over Jackson’s face. Red drew a long breath through flared nostrils. “Recognize that scent?” Jackson asked, his breath coming in ragged pants. The two of them stood sniffing the air, reminding Jen of dogs attempting to catch a scent. “Shit,” Red said. His forehead furrowed but it was the look in his eyes Jen found most alarming. Terror. “Garrett Dermonté.” “He’s all over her, Red. He’s fricking marked his territory.” Red rubbed the back of his neck and paced in a tight circle in front of her. “Sorry bastard,” he growled. “He made damn sure none of us could have her.” Jen didn’t know what they were talking about but it was clear they knew Garrett was her lover. “Last night.” Red stared at Jackson. “We knew some garg had taken a human lover.” Both of them turned their stares on her. Jen swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “It was you and Garrett going at it,” Red accused, pointing his finger at her. Jen glared at him. How dare he make what happened between Garrett and her sound so vulgar. “Man, if she and Garrett…I mean if she’s the Reconciler… Shit.” Jackson’s breathing grew rapid. A wild look filled his eyes. “This ain’t good.” He shook his head while his stare darted about as though he tried to think of what to do. “I mean, shouldn’t we be protecting her instead of helping Tracker?” “Shut up, you stupid fuck. Do you know what Tracker will do to us if she’s not here when he arrives tonight?” Red asked. “After his demon imbeciles screwed up last night, it’s a damn good thing Tracker got delayed. If the locals can’t catch her then we have to prove we’re more capable. It’ll mean a lot more money for us.” “Yeah, but this…” Jackson rubbed his face and looked over at her. “If the Legend is true, then she’s like our fucking redeemer. Our savior. It changes everything.” “That whole thing is just some crazy myth. You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions.” Red paced in front of her. “When Garrett finds out—” Jackson’s voice broke off. “We’re so fucked!” “Look,” Jen finally spoke, “you don’t have to do this.” She tried to summon her courage and find a way to talk them out of handing her over to Tracker, whoever he 116

Reunited

was. “I don’t want you to do this. You can leave right now and no one will know anything. I won’t tell Garrett.” “Red, listen to her. Let’s just leave.” “Shut up, Jackson,” Red snarled. “We don’t want to hurt you, we really don’t, but we hired out to do this.” Sweat beaded above his upper lip and he licked it off. “I’ll double whatever you were paid,” she said. “It doesn’t work like that,” Red laughed. “We can’t betray the demon who hired us. That would be signing our own death warrants.” “Only we can’t die, we’d just end up broken and in torturous pain for all eternity,” Jackson added. “I don’t understand.” Jen tried to infuse a feeling of indignity in her voice. If they thought she was some kind of redeemer then she might be able to convince them to release her. “Aren’t gargoyles supposed to protect humans?” she asked and turned what she hoped was an incredulous expression on Jackson. He averted his stare, bowing his head. “I mean, you were created to protect people like me. Weren’t you? How can you work for your enemy? Demons?” “They’re no longer our enemies. The virus took care of that.” “Tell me about the virus.” She looked over at Jackson who shook his head. It wouldn’t take much to sway him. She turned her attention to Red. He was the one she had to convince. “You don’t know about the virus?” Red scoffed. “I don’t know a whole lot about gargoyles or demons,” she admitted, wondering if she should have revealed such a lack of knowledge. “See, Red? Just like the Legend. This is exactly how she should be.” Jackson’s eyes widened. Jen could feel the internal battle waging inside Red. How was she able to sense such things? “Red, we can’t do this, man,” Jackson cried. “Shut up,” he growled. “I know we can’t.” Relief thundered through her. “But we ain’t going back on our deal with Tracker.” The hope of escape slipped from her. “Just let me go,” she pleaded. Her heart pounded harder. “You can say you got here too late. I’d already left.” “We should let her go, Red. Remember how it used to be. The Legend says the Reconciler will heal us, man.” Jackson’s voice cracked. “God, I ache to be healed, Red. Don’t you? Come on, aren’t you tired of having no free will? Don’t you miss what we used to be?” 117

Sally Painter

“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t shut up, Jackson,” Red yelled. “I want to feel like a gargoyle again, Red. Not this half-creature I’ve become. Hell, we used to have pride, man. Do you remember how it felt to be part of the Clisneach Guard? To have a real purpose in life? We had honor. Think about it, Red. We’d have rather died than work with fucking demons.” Red shook his head as if he mentally weighed the pros and cons of letting her go. “You know she’s the way to redemption. She’ll bring us back together like we once were.” “Jackson.” Red raised his fist in a threatening gesture. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it would beat right out of her chest. If she could lure them into believing she was this Reconciler then she could win her freedom. “Red,” Jen said, hoping to imitate the healing Garrett had given her long enough, to side-track them. “I can give you that healing. But you have to want it.” “A healing? From you? You don’t even know what you are,” Red scoffed. “All you have to do is close your eyes and envision a field of wildflowers and—” “Oh my God.” Jackson sank to his knees with a wail so intense Jen had to look at him to make sure he was making the sound and not some injured animal hiding inside the house. “She knows the gargoyle healing. She is the one. Please, Reconciler, heal me. I beg you.” The woeful plea in his voice stirred something inside her. Guilt swept through Jen. Why should she have the slightest remorse about deceiving them? These gargoyles wanted to rape her and hand her over to demons. She should hate them yet she didn’t. An overwhelming desire to heal their suffering tugged at her. She looked from one to the other, trying to understand what was going on with her. Did she have compassion for them because of her own healing? Were her natural instincts so lacking that instead of fear and anger she felt pity and compassion? “Heal me,” Jackson begged. Red appeared to still be mentally struggling with what Jackson was saying. While he was distracted, she had an opportunity to escape and edged her way around the kitchen counter. Her feet itched to run across the room and out the back door to freedom. “I want to be healed, Reconciler,” Jackson sobbed. “Please bless me and bestow your healing energy on me. Make me whole again. It’s been five hundred years since I became trapped by this virus.” “I said to shut the fuck up!” Red grabbed him by the t-shirt collar. “She ain’t who you think she is, Jackson. There’s no healing for us. Now get up.” “Please, release me from this hell, I beg you,” Jackson yelled, ignoring Red who shoved from him, turning his back to Jen. This was her chance to escape but Jackson’s plea paralyzed her. His words sliced through her like a blade tearing through her heart. Tears welled in her eyes and she wished with all her being she could heal him. Regret over playing on his weakness 118

Reunited

threatened to destroy the advantage she’d momentarily gained. She stared at the gargoyle crying for her help. “Please heal me,” Jackson sobbed. “Don’t heal him,” Garrett’s voice boomed behind them.

119

Sally Painter

Chapter Eleven “Garrett,” Jen sighed with relief when she saw him standing in the doorway. He bent his head to enter the house and flashed a glance at her before looking back at the intruders. The tension and fear drained from her. He stood with his hands on his hips, wearing only a pair of jeans. Nice tight jeans. Dark hair cascaded over his bare back. Bare-chested and barefoot, he looked as though he’d jumped from the bed, thrown on the jeans and rushed out of the house. He cut a sexy powerful image standing there with the sunlight creating an aura around him. Her heart pounded faster. How had he found her? She started across the room but Red moved to block her way. Garrett’s steely gaze moved from one gargoyle to the other. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing here, Red? Jackson?” he asked and shot a quick glance at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, letting his stare move over her as though checking to verify she was unharmed. Jen bit back the threatening tears and jerked her head in a short nod. “Dammit, Red, I asked you a question. What the fuck are you and Jackson doing here? Did you break down her door?” “Garrett,” Red wheezed and lifted his hands in front of him. “Look, man, we had no idea she was yours. Not until—” “Wait a second,” Jackson interrupted. “He’s walking around in daylight, Red.” Jackson stood from the kneeling position. “Look at his tattoo. It’s not gold anymore. But it ain’t red either. What does that mean?” “He’s one of us!” Red half-laughed and half-choked. “Well, that explains last night’s quake. See, Jackson, she can’t be the Reconciler. He’s turned rogue and she didn’t heal him.” “What makes you think I’m a fucking mutant?” Garrett growled and took a menacing step forward. “I’m still waiting for the answer to my first question. What are you doing?” “They’re making sure I stay here until their boss arrives tonight. Someone named Tracker.” The muscles in his jaw tightened and she could sense the rage moving through him. Jackson kept his gaze fixed on her. “Now look, Garrett, we were just discussing what to do once we realized who she was. Hell, we thought for a minute you’d finally found the Reconciler. Like you saw, ole Jackson, here, was down on his knees begging her to heal him.” Red gestured to his cohort with a nervous laugh. 120

Reunited

“What are they talking about, Garrett?” she asked. “It’s okay,” he said, yet didn’t take his stare from the two rogues. “Where’s Tracker?” “He arrives late tonight.” “You better give me more than that.” “His men are on the way over,” Red spoke up. “Fucking demons?” Garrett’s attention snapped to Jen and it wasn’t a comforting look. For the first time since meeting the powerful gargoyle, she saw a glint of fear in his eyes. Fear for her. “You can either help me get her out of here or you can die. Well, I guess for you it wouldn’t be a real death.” Garrett turned on the gargoyles. “But it sure as hell will be painful. I guarantee you that.” “If you’re walking around in the daylight, man, then it means you’ve lost your power to heal too,” Jackson said. “Jen, come over here,” Garrett ordered. Still holding the knife, she started around the work island. “Don’t do this, man. The demons will hunt us down,” Red rasped. “And when they do, they’ll decapitate you and roast your sorry asses over a fire.” Garrett’s smile was cruel. Jen’s heart stopped beating for a brief moment. This could not be the man who had healed her. The same man who had made love to her and been so attentive to her every need. “You know that won’t kill us. Our bodies will rejoin and they’ll just—” Jackson squinted, shaking his head. “Start all over,” Garrett finished. “Seems like a fitting eternity for a couple of traitors.” “You bastard, you should know what it’s like now that you’re one of us.” “Like I said, I’m not one of you.” Garrett held his hand out to Jen. She hurried past Red, yet wasn’t fast enough because the rogue gargoyle reached out and grabbed her by the arm, forcing the knife from her hand. “Garrett!” she screamed. He lunged for Red and the assailant’s grip released, sending her tumbling to the floor. She turned in time to see Jackson jump into the fray as the two gargoyles pounced on Garrett. He managed to slam his fist into Jackson’s face, sending the gargoyle crashing into the cabinet. He turned for Red but the rogue struck him on the chin. Jen scrambled to her feet, looking about the room for the knife. Her heartbeat quickened each time Garrett and Red hammered into the other. Jackson picked himself up from the floor and lunged toward Garrett again.

121

Sally Painter

“Stop!” she shouted. A surge of energy rushed from her. It blasted across the room appearing like a series of heat waves, and slammed into the gargoyles, sending all three falling to the floor. Garrett glanced over at her with a shocked expression creasing his face. Jen stared at the scene in front of her, trying to comprehend she had gained some kind of power. How had she done that? “Let’s get out of here, Red,” Jackson yelled and helped him from the floor. The two gargoyles stumbled toward the foyer and out the front door. Jen hurried across the room and stooped over Garrett. “Oh, Garrett, are you all right?” she asked, brushing his hair from his face. He groaned and let her help him to his feet. “We have to get out of here,” he said. Jen leaned over and grabbed her purse off the counter. She supported Garrett with a shoulder under his arm and he limped beside her as they hurried from the house. He still seemed dazed when she opened the passenger door. “We have to hurry,” he said and climbed inside. “I can manage. Get the car started.” Jen ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in behind the wheel. She jabbed the key into the ignition and started the SUV. She reached for the seat belt. “No time. Go!” Garrett grunted and tried to sit up in the seat. She backed out of the driveway and sped down the street with the tires squealing as she took the corner. “Are you okay?” she asked. He didn’t seem to be recovering from the fight. “Need a few minutes,” he groaned. She headed toward town. “No. Go to the swamp, away from town.” “Don’t the demons live in the swamps?” “They just perform rituals out there. They won’t expect us to go in that direction. We can then backtrack and go to my house.” She nodded and made a U-turn in the street, heading away from town. “Why not go directly back to your house?” Jen longed to return to the place where she’d felt so safe and protected―where they’d first made love. “Demons attacked my house this morning. Killed the rogue gargoyles guarding it. Well, they’ll eventually revive but for now they’re dead.” “Oh no.” Jen looked over at him and ran off the road. Debris spun against the underside of the vehicle in metallic pinging sounds. She gripped the steering wheel and guided the SUV back onto the road. “But I didn’t know anyone was guarding the house. They were killed because of me?” Tears stung her eyes.

122

Reunited

“Don’t cry. They were killed because demons attacked the house. It’s not your fault. I killed another one right after you left. I suspect he was there to check on his team’s progress. Probably thought they’d killed Bel and me and taken you prisoner.” “Is Bel okay?” “She’s fine.” “Thank God. What’s a rogue gargoyle?” “Like Red and Jackson. Even though they’re immortal like Bel and me, they no longer have the ability to completely heal when injured.” He straightened in the seat, clutching his arm. “But you said they’ll revive.” “Rogues can’t die ever. Those like Bel and me can only die if our wings are ripped from us. It’s how demons kill us.” “Oh my God.” Jen gulped air. “You’re immortal?” Garrett groaned. “You’re hurt.” “I’ll be okay.” He glanced behind them, peering through the rear window. “Dammit.” Jen followed his stare. A black SUV approached them from behind. “Turn up here.” “But that’s a one-lane road. Swamps are on either side. We’ll be trapped.” “Look ahead,” he said, nodding at the two black vehicles barreling down both lanes heading for them. “Turn!” he shouted. She made the turn onto the narrow sandy stretch and the SUV skidded sideways, but she quickly corrected it. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Jen saw the vehicles turn in behind her. “Step on it,” he yelled. The road was rutted and they bounced along the sandy strip almost too narrow for the SUV. Jen’s mind whirled with frightening thoughts. They couldn’t turn around. They were trapped by the swamps on either side. “This road ends about a mile ahead,” she said. “Do you trust me?” he asked. She met his stare and then flashed her attention back to the uneven road. “Of course.” “Then do exactly as I say.” She nodded and swallowed the dryness choking her. “I’m going to kick the door off and then open my wings. You’ll need to slide over here and wrap your arms around my neck.” “What?” She hadn’t heard him correctly.

123

Sally Painter

The SUV fell into a deep rut and she grasped the steering wheel harder, trying to keep from being pitched to the floorboard. She glanced in the mirror and all she saw was a thick cloud of dust and sand churning out behind the SUV. Suddenly, the demons’ vehicles came into view like dark ghosts. Garrett slid over next to her, dropping a hard kiss on her cheek, and then turned his back to her. The SUV hit a rut and he bounced against her. His naked back, hot and sweaty, pressed into her shoulder. She reminded herself that he was a strong warrior. Confidence replaced apprehension. He would protect her. “I’m ready,” she said and turned the steering wheel, trying to keep the SUV on the road bed. Garrett drew his legs to his chest and Jen prepared to jump from the vehicle on his command. He thrust his legs forward bashing bare feet into the passenger door. The sound of metal scraping under the powerful blow was followed by the door ripping free and hurtling sideways into the swamp where it landed in a big splash. At that moment, Jen realized she had underestimated his power. Her pulse was hammering so loud in her ears, she couldn’t hear anything, especially the gunshot. It wasn’t until the bullet zinged past her head that she screamed. It hit the windshield and left a perfect hole in its path. The glass cracked into a series of fine lines radiating outward. Turning his back to the open doorway Garrett leaned toward her. Jen watched the wings emerge from his back, slipping through two elongated slits gaping open in his flesh. They fluttered into full expanse outside the car door. Her mouth fell open. His wings had changed color. They were red. He drew them into a v-shape behind his back. “Come on.” He held out his hands to her. Jen turned the steering wheel so the SUV would continue in a fairly straight path, allowing them time to escape. She scooted over the center console and grabbed his hands. Firm fingers threaded through hers but released when the vehicle plunged into a series of ruts. The SUV slid around a curve and continued speeding toward the shoulder of the road where only a narrow strip separated land from stagnant water. Garrett clamped his hands around her wrists and dragged her the rest of the way. One moment she was struggling from the passenger seat and the next she was being lifted into the air. Jen cried out and clung to him. Strong arms encircled her and Jen locked her hands behind his neck. Her legs dangled in the air but she quickly wrapped them around his waist, locking her ankles. Garrett tightened his hold as he rode the strong air current and flew upward. Blinking against the wind, she buried her head into his shoulder. The sound of his wings pumping through the air sent charges of excitement through her. Her nostrils filled with his scent, a scent she wanted to draw inside her and capture for all eternity. This was where she belonged—in his arms.

124

Reunited

The respite was interrupted by a noisy commotion below. She looked down just in time to witness her SUV jump over the narrow shoulder and land nose first in the shallow water, back tires spinning in the air throwing sand and water from them. The demons’ vehicles braked to a halt, kicking up sand and nearly colliding into each other. They piled out of the vehicles. Their movements reminded her of a technique used in horror films where frames were removed to create unnatural, jerky movements, only these were caused by the monsters phasing in and out. Shouts rang out, followed by gunfire. She screamed and clung to Garrett, tensing her body, prepared for the impact of bullets tearing through her flesh. “It’s okay, baby. We’re too high for the bullets to hit us.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Thank God,” she gasped and relaxed in his arms. Demon shouts and oaths rose from the ground, surprising her how close they sounded, as though she were standing on the ground beside them. Other sounds drew her attention away from the scene. Dogs barking nearly half a mile away seemed so close, car doors slamming, children laughing…all the sounds traveled straight up from the ground. And above it all was the swooshing sound of Garrett’s powerful wings slicing through the air. “Garrett. Your wings were black this morning. What happened?” “I’m not sure.” “Has this ever happened to a gargoyle?” “No. It’s all new to me, Jen.” Garrett didn’t understand it any more than she did. If he was a mutant then he shouldn’t be able to fly. His tattoo would have turned red, not blue, and most certainly his wings would never change colors. He brushed his lips over her forehead. Perhaps he was infected with a new strand of the virus and he was mutating into yet another form of gargoyle. He pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on flying. He wanted to get her to safety. He might turn to stone any moment. The longer he didn’t, the more baffled he was over the transformation. Looking down at her, Garrett curled his fingers underneath her chin and leaned over to capture her lips with his. Soft lips warmed by the morning sun latched onto his. Garrett groaned. His heart swelled with so much love he was taken aback. How could she have captured his heart so completely? He broke from the kiss and looked down at her. “When I awoke and discovered you’d left the house, I was so afraid for you.” He stroked her face. Relief was a welcomed feeling. It fell over him like a cool spray of water, splashing away the panic he’d carried all morning.

125

Sally Painter

Jen trembled in his arms. He could hear her thoughts, a mesh of questions and observations. But the most prevalent thought overriding everything was the one she longed to ask. “Shh,” he whispered, stroking the length of her hair as he pressed her head gently to his chest. “Why are the demons after me, Garrett? What did the gargoyles at my house mean when they called me the Reconciler?” He’d hoped to stave off the questions at least until they arrived back home. “Did you hear me?” She lifted her head. “Yeah, I’ll explain once I get you to a safe place.” “Where? Your house?” “For now. If the demons return Bel won’t be able to fly away from them.” “Why not?” “She’s not like me. If she steps into the sunlight she’ll turn to stone.” Garrett stroked her oval face, wanting to take away the worry he saw in her eyes. “Why is Bel different?” Garrett sighed, knowing he couldn’t sidestep the issue any longer. “It’s complicated. I was like Bel until this morning. Let’s get home and make sure she’s safe. Then I’ll explain it all to you,” he said and dipped his wing so they were headed for home. “Can’t we just call her?” He closed his eyes, feeling foolish. He was so accustomed to telepathically communicating with his sister that he hadn’t thought about the cell phone. Loosening his embrace, he reached for the phone but it was no longer in his pocket. “I must have dropped it back at your house or when I flew from the car.” “My battery is dead,” she sighed. “We’ll be there soon. It’s not too far,” he said, hoping they would arrive before the demons so he could get Bel out of the house. “Garrett, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I just had to make sure the orders went out for the funeral and—” “Shh. I understand.” He kissed her, closing his eyes. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed her lips to his. God, she tasted good. His heart slammed against his chest. He parted her lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, nearly forgetting he was flying until he glanced down and realized they were sailing only a few inches above the trees. He broke from the kiss to tip his wing just in time to dodge a branch. This was crazy, if he didn’t pay attention to what he was doing, they might crash. His feet scraped over leaves and he sailed higher to avoid the treetops. At that moment, holding the woman he loved while flying in the sunlight, Garrett felt free. 126

Reunited

It was the first time he’d felt the sun warm his flesh for more than a split second. A strange longing seized him. He looked down at her. Loving her made him long for a different life for them. At that moment he just wanted to be free of obligations and able to choose his own destiny. He tightened his arms around her. If only he could find a way to save her. “Where are we going?” “We’ll have to sail over the sound,” he said, noticing how crowded the water was with hundreds of boats. Groups of men were fishing while families water-skied. “But can’t they see us?” she asked. “I wish we were invisible,” Jen said. “Well, after that demonstration at your house, maybe you have other abilities.” “But how did I do that? What is happening to me?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows. “See if you can cloak us.” Garrett averted his stare, hating himself for not telling her the truth. “Just try, Jen. Use the same technique when you broke up the fight.” Since she had some powers, maybe she could make them invisible. She nodded and closed her eyes. A wave of energy similar to the one she’d blasted toward his attackers emanated from her and encapsulated them. “Is it working?” she asked. “Keep your eyes closed and concentrate.” He didn’t want to risk distracting her with more conversation. He started across the sound about a mile from the house so he could scout the pine forest before he landed, in case any demons were lurking around. “Is it working?” Jen asked. Garrett looked down at the boaters. No one noticed them. “Yes, keep doing whatever you’re doing,” he said just as the water disappeared beneath them and was replaced by the thick pine forest. “You did it,” he breathed in her ear. Unable to resist, he flicked his tongue over the tender lobe. He wanted her. The memory of sliding his cock deep inside her made him pump his wings harder. A frenzied need burst inside him. Was it because she was forbidden? Was he merely intoxicated from making love to a human? Was it the mutation driving him to mate? Or was it something else that made him crave her as surely as if he were an addict? His thoughts drifted back to earlier that morning when he’d slain the demon and sunlight had struck him, turning him to stone. How had he broken free of the stone encasement, much less be able to fly in the sunlight? It remained a mystery. Mutants couldn’t fly during the day and their wings certainly didn’t turn red. And what about his Clisneach seal? It wasn’t the typical mutant red. “I made us invisible?” Jen glanced over her shoulder toward the sound. “I can’t believe I did that. Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” he smiled down at her. “What’s happening to me, Garrett? Did I always have these powers? I mean I’ve started cars with white light but this is so much more.” 127

Sally Painter

Was it possible both of their transformations were a result of their lovemaking? Had the consummation somehow bestowed special abilities on him? On her? While it confused him, it was also the most exhilarating thing to ever happen to him. Having Jen as his lover felt right. Still, Garrett wondered his feelings for Jen were unique to only him. He saw how the gargoyles in her house had reacted, reminding him of last night when he’d nearly been driven mindless with desire for her. He couldn’t deny she had a special effect on gargoyles. Even Bel had commented on it. “I just don’t understand any of this. Am I the Reconciler?” “I can’t say.” He ground his teeth together. He wanted to tell her. “Can’t? Or won’t?” she asked. “It’s the same thing,” he said, searching the forest as he glided over it. He would find a place to perch and survey the grounds surrounding the house before descending. He moved her legs from around his waist and cradled them with his other arm as though carrying her over a threshold. He mentally scoffed at the image. He didn’t delude himself into thinking they had a future together. Their fates were set and even though he was determined to change them, Garrett had never seen fate outwitted. The thought of losing Jen sent a stabbing pain through him. It felt so real, he looked down to see if his flesh was torn and his stare locked with hers. He wanted to get lost in those brown eyes so full of trust and… His heart stopped. Love. He tightened his arm around her, tugging her closer. He would find a way to save her. Somehow. Her body teased his senses. Blood pumped to his cock, hardening it almost to the point of pain. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, to gain control over the desire urging him to land in the forest and ravish her. Heat prickled over his flesh and he shook against the need to feel her hips grinding against his. Looking ahead, he scanned the treetops, searching for a roofline while willing his body to calm. Yet the visions of her lying beneath him, legs spread apart with tender flesh exposed to his greedy stare continued to unfold in his mind. It would be some time before he could be alone with her. Garrett brushed his lips over her forehead and took a deep breath, letting her scent fill his head. Her sharp intake of breath told him the same frenetic need coursed through her. He mentally shook his head, reminding himself to pay attention to the task at hand. Being aroused while flying was new and not something he found easy to master. He resisted the impulse and forced his attention to the ground below until he spotted a roofline peeping through the treetops a few yards ahead. Home. He held his wings rigid to slow their pace. “We’re here.” He pulled in his wings over his head so he could descend into a nearby tree in the surrounding woods. Jen’s grip around his neck tightened as he settled on a limb and lowered her to sit between his legs.

128

Reunited

“What is it?” Jen whispered, crooking her arms around the calves of his legs to peer out over the backyard. A blue truck was parked in the driveway. Were the demons already here? She noticed a blue sports car parked in the garage underneath the porch. It struck her that it must be his car, the one Bel went to retrieve last night. She hadn’t noticed it when she’d left that morning but then she was preoccupied. He rested his chin on top of her head. Shivers of excitement inched down her spine. It was a simple, unconscious gesture but intimate and possessive. They fit together. Garrett lifted his hand in front of her and pointed toward the wooded area along the driveway. Jen followed his gesture, squinting against the mid-morning sun. Something moved and she leaned forward. He then pointed a few feet away to yet another figure standing by a big oak tree where the driveway emptied onto the road. Jen attempted to see the telltale sign of awkward movements whenever a demon phased in and out. Nothing. “Are they rogue gargoyles, like the ones at my house?” she whispered. “Not exactly,” Garrett said. “They’re part of Starn’s team.” “Starn?” she asked. “He was once Bel’s mate.” Emotion strained his voice, and she sensed the split had left bad blood between the two men. “Do gargoyles have many mates then?” she asked, her heart thumping. If his answer was yes, Jen didn’t know how she could share Garrett. She wouldn’t. “Only one mate for all eternity.” She sighed with relief. “I’ve never wanted to mate until I met you,” he added, answering her next question. She flushed with heat. Were they considered mated after last night? She wanted to ask but decided to wait for the right moment. “If you mate for eternity then why is he no longer Bel’s mate?” Garrett’s body tensed under her hands. “There’s a virus. It mutates my race. Some are immune, such as Bel and me. Others, like Starn aren’t.” “The ones at my house, they said they were victims of a virus. The one called Jackson begged me to heal him. Why would he think I could do that?” “It’s complicated. When I have you safely tucked in bed, I’ll explain more.” Her breathing quickened at the thought of being in bed with him again. She recalled every titillating moment they’d shared. “We’ll have time to talk, I promise.” He stroked her hair. She nodded, pursing her lips together to keep from blurting out the one question she longed to have answered—what is a Reconciler? It too would have to wait.

129

Sally Painter

The sound of a screen door slamming drew her attention to the house. A tall muscular man wearing shorts and a t-shirt hurried down the steps. His blond cropped hair reminded her of the gargoyles who’d attacked Garrett. This gargoyle’s posture was one of confidence, reminding her of Garrett’s controlled, rather militaristic mannerisms. Her attention was drawn to the bandaged hand he held to his chest. “Keep your team in place while I’m gone and make sure you have a replacement team ready to relieve them at midnight,” he spoke. “That’s Starn,” Garrett informed her. Jen nodded. Her interest heightened. She could sense anger and sadness in his tone, but there was more—a deep pain like an open wound that never healed. How could she sense all that by his voice? Was it another new power? And where had all these powers come from? Had Garrett’s healing somehow unleashed latent abilities? She wanted to ask him but instead she listened to Starn. “I’m going to town. I need two of you to come with me. We’re on a find, secure and deliver mission for a human female.”

130

Reunited

Chapter Twelve “It’s time for us to go in,” Garrett said and Jen locked her arms around his neck as he straightened. Her stomach flip-flopped when he stepped off the limb. Their flight was soundless with no movement of wings as Garrett glided in a wide circle over the house. “Look there!” A shout went up from the ground as they descended in a spiral until he landed in the yard. His arms relaxed underneath her legs and Jen slid down the length of his body. She gripped steely arms while waiting for her feet to touch the ground. He held her by the waist as she settled on her feet. The grass was warm with tiny beads of dew still clinging to it. Her legs wobbled underneath her when she turned around to face the man Garrett had identified as Starn. “How the fuck are you still flying?” Starn asked, frowning at Garrett. “See you got some medical attention. How’s the hand?” he asked. Jen’s attention shot to the soft cast Starn wore. “Long time to heal if it ever does, man,” Starn answered with a harsh glare. Garrett grunted behind her and clasped her hand in his, turning for the house. Jen noticed his wings had disappeared and stared at his smooth back, unable to see any impressions or slits. How did he do that? “That’s all you have to say, you ungrateful bastard?” Starn yelled after him. Garrett halted, dropping his clasp. “No,” Jen said, grabbing his arm with both hands, but he quickly disentangled himself and stomped toward Starn. “What do you want me to say, Starn? I’m sorry you’re a stupid fuck for taking a swing at me while I was stone?” Jen didn’t understand what was going on. When had Garrett been stone? Why wasn’t he still stone? “I asked you a question. How is it you can fly in daylight when none of us can? If you’re mutating, that shouldn’t be possible.” “Mutating?” Jen wheezed. Garrett glanced over his shoulder at her. The pained look in his eyes told her it was something he hadn’t wanted her to know. He turned away but not before she saw the angry scowl hardening his face. “I’m going to break your other hand if you don’t keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about.”

131

Sally Painter

“Yeah? On your best day, Dermonté,” Starn taunted. “Bring it on. If you’re really mutating, then you’ll find out you won’t completely heal from the wounds I’m going to inflict on you.” Starn stood with his good hand balled into a fist in front of him while keeping the hand in the cast by his side. Starn’s men left their posts to move closer along the outer edge of the yard— waiting. Jen swallowed back the nervous tightening in her throat. With a jeering laugh, Garrett turned from him and started back to her. The door from the house creaked open followed by the sound of footsteps on the enclosed porch. “Starn,” Bel yelled down to them. Jen glanced up and tried to mask her shock. It wasn’t the woman from last night who stood on the porch, but a creature with golden wings and a lioness nose and brow. She wondered why Bel didn’t resemble a panther like her brother. Something else she’d ask Garrett later. “What are you doing still here? I thought you were going to…” Her words died when she saw Garrett and Jen. “Thank God. I was so worried about you. Why didn’t you call?” Jen started to respond that the battery on her phone was dead, when she realized the question was directed at Garrett. She watched the fine dark hue move over his face. “I’ll talk with you inside,” he clipped with a warning glare in Bel’s direction. He grabbed Jen’s hand in his once more and started up the steps. “I was right. You are infected.” She turned. Starn was walking toward them. She noticed the red tattoo on his arm suddenly started to glow. “Your distance telepathic powers are gone. Aren’t they, man? Well, fucking welcome to my world, bro,” Starn laughed. The other gargoyles didn’t join in the laughter. Instead they stood watching like the statues on the church roof. Garrett’s body went rigid and she knew Starn had pushed him too far. The sound started as a low growl, vibrating past his clenched teeth and released in a savage yell. He dropped his handclasp and leaped from the steps. His retracted wings pushed out from his back and expanded to carry him across the yard and right into Starn. He tackled the gargoyle and their bodies were a blur of red wings, arms and legs as they rolled across the yard. A cheer went up from the other gargoyles who closed in around the fight scene. “Stop it,” Bel shouted from the porch. “Do something,” she called down to Jen. “Me?” Jen looked from Bel to the fight. “Make him stop before he hurts Starn. Please,” Bel asked in a voice that didn’t resemble the tough no-nonsense woman. Her plea was full of anguish. “I know you have the power, just try, please.” 132

Reunited

Jen watched Garrett duck Starn’s punch and slam his fist into the gargoyle’s stomach. Starn doubled over with an agonized cry. “Garrett!” Bel screamed, sobs bubbling in her voice. Jen wrung her hands together, hot and clammy from the humidity. Why would Bel believe she had the power to stop them? Perhaps Bel believed like the two gargoyles, Jackson and Red, that she was the Reconciler. Jen wondered if she could stop them the same way she had at her house. But could she control the power? What if she ended up hurting them? Starn stumbled back and lifted his foot, bringing his leg up in an arc. The blow struck Garrett in the side of the head and he staggered sideways but quickly recovered and lunged for Starn. “Please help me, Jen. He’s going to kill Starn,” Bel sobbed. It was strange to see a half-woman, half-lion with wings, sobbing but she felt Bel’s fear as her own. She sensed Bel’s helplessness, unable to protect her mate. She turned back to the yard. Garrett slammed his fist into Starn’s face and he countered by head-butting Garrett. They staggered apart briefly before punching each other again. “Stop it, both of you!” Jen yelled above the cheers and rants. A shimmering charge of energy shot from her and raced in a blue streak across the lawn. It burst into the space between the two gargoyles and shoved them apart. Garrett fell backward onto his ass while Starn tumbled to a stop on the ground where he lay groaning. Each tried to stand but the energy pinned them to the ground. “This bickering isn’t doing us any good,” Bel cried. “Garrett, stop.” Her voice cracked. Garrett bowed his head. His chest heaved as he gulped air. Starn lay on the ground cradling his bandaged hand to his chest. Jen stared at them. She’d just thought of separating them and the energy had obeyed. Incredible. “You can release them,” Bel called down to her. Not sure how to do that, Jen closed her eyes and willed the energy to recede. When she opened her eyes, it was to the shocked expressions and wide-eyed stares of everyone in the yard, except Garrett. She expected him to be angry but his expression was one of sadness. “Glory! She is the Reconciler,” someone proclaimed. The guards turned toward Jen and kneeled with their heads bowed. “Glory be to the Reconciler. We are saved!” Jen stood staring at them, not knowing what to say or do. Embarrassed, she wanted to disappear into thin air. She looked at Garrett, hoping he would offer her a way out of the awkward moment, but he sat with his head bowed. “Come inside, Jen. I have breakfast ready,” Bel said, giving her the out.

133

Sally Painter

That was all it took. No explanation. No denial. No confirmation. Jen turned on her heel and ran up the steps, slamming the screen door behind her. She paused on the screen porch for one last glimpse at the scene in the yard. All of the gargoyles, except Garrett, still watched her. “Don’t pay any attention to those idiots. They just need a good battle to vent their frustrations and they’ll have it soon enough,” Bel said and motioned for her to come inside. Garrett stood and brushed himself off. Retracting his wings, he started for the house. “Let me help you up, man,” one of Starn’s men said and leaned down to offer the injured man assistance. “She’s the Reconciler, isn’t she, Commander?” one of the gargoyles yelled after him. “I thought it was just an old myth,” another commented, followed by low mumblings. Garrett shook his head and started up the steps. It was over. His efforts to keep her identity secret had been for nothing. Destiny was an insistent bitch. He clenched his jaw. Word would spread among the gargoyles. Nothing could stop it. He climbed the steps to the porch. When he entered the kitchen his stare found Jen’s. Her eyes were clouded with confusion. He forced a stiff smile, knowing explanations were needed. “Dammit, Garrett,” Bel snapped. “Why do you have to give in to his baiting like that?” “Why do you have to interfere?” he asked and leaned down to kiss Jen on the cheek. “Are you hurt?” she asked, locking her fingers through his. He shook his head and sat down beside her, drawing her hand to his lips. He pressed a tender kiss into it. He wanted to hold on to her forever. Bel set two coffee mugs in front of them and turned back to the stove. “You know Starn’s hand will never heal from your other fight this morning.” “You call that a fight? The idiot took a swing at me while I was stone.” “He still won’t heal.” “You were stone?” Jen asked. “But you said only Bel turned to stone—” “Like I explained, until this morning, I did too. Gargoyles revert to our true form during the day. The way Bel looks right now.” He paused to glance at his sister. Bel frowned at him and turned back to the stove. “If we get in direct sunlight, we turn to stone. At night we have the ability to appear like a human or a gargoyle or a human with wings, like I was earlier. Something happened this morning after I was stoned and

134

Reunited

I was able to break free. I didn’t turn back to stone when the sun hit my skin.” He watched a crease form in the center of her forehead. “Is that normal?” she asked. “Nothing is normal anymore,” Bel answered and set the plates of food in front of them. Garrett breathed in the aroma. His stomach rumbled in response. Bel made common meals taste like a gourmet feast. He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and grabbed a slice of bacon. “So most gargoyles turn to stone when struck by sunlight?” Jen asked, taking a small bite. “Until the virus—” Bel started to explain but Garrett interrupted. “She knows about the virus and the mutation.” “Well then, it’s all part of the mutation. Those like Starn can move about in daylight but are unable to fly or transform into gargoyle form during the day. Their self-healing ability is also diminished. But this morning revealed a new enigma.” She gestured to Garrett. “My brother appears to be infected, only he’s able to do things Starn and the other rogues can’t. So what does that make him?” “A new and improved gargoyle,” he added with a smirk. “Right,” Bel said, shaking her head. “I’m not infected,” he said between mouthfuls. “And how did you come to that conclusion?” Bel asked, sitting down across from them. “Logic, sis. I can fly, they can’t. I have red wings now. Look at my tattoo. It didn’t turn rogue red. Have you ever seen a blue Clisneach seal? I’ve not turned my back on the sacred duty. Need I go on?” he asked and washed the bacon down with a swallow of coffee. “I’m the same with a few enhanced abilities. Nothing has been taken away from me.” “Have you stopped to think maybe you’re just the first victim of the next generation of mutation?” He stopped eating, feeling as if Bel had sucker-punched him in the stomach. “I see you haven’t.” His sister nodded. “What exactly happens to those infected? The two gargoyles at my house—” “What? There were rogues at your house?” Bel gave Garrett an accusatory glare. “She wasn’t at the shop when I got there and that kid wasn’t giving any information.” He looked at Jen. “Fortunately I looked at your driver’s license last night.” “So you knew my address?” Jen asked. “You’re missing the point.” Bel frowned at him. He didn’t need to connect to her telepathically to know what she was thinking. 135

Sally Painter

“They said they worked for some demon named Tracker. Is that what happens to infected gargoyles? Do they join forces with demons?” Jen asked while sipping the coffee. Bel jumped up from the table, fists planted on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” she asked and started for the door. “Calm down, Bel. Don’t go telling them Tracker’s involved.” The last thing he needed was rogue gargoyles rushing to align with Tracker. “Are you crazy? We’ll need their help more than ever.” “We can’t depend on them. The rogues are aligned with Tracker.” “Several of Starn’s men gave their lives for us this morning. I think they’ve proven their loyalty,” Bel said. “They aren’t really dead so it’s not a valid testimony to their loyalty, Bel.” “That’s not fair. It was a sacrifice. Reviving is a painful process.” “How can they revive from death?” Jen asked. Garrett looked at her. “Gargoyles are immortals and the mutants are now vulnerable to injuries and even death but they are still immortal, so they recover.” “Slowly,” Bel added. Garrett shrugged. “As a majority, rogues are unpredictable. Like the two at your house.” He noticed the way she studied Bel. Jen had never seen Bel in her full gargoyle state. At least it didn’t appear to unnerve her. “They weren’t part of Starn’s team,” Bel defended. “Excuse me,” Jen interrupted, “but how do you distinguish between the rogue gargoyles at my house and the ones like Starn?” Her question threw Bel off balance. He could see his sister’s anger visibly deflate. She sat back down at the table. “There’s no distinction,” Garrett said. “They all lost the ability to exert free will over their actions. The virus drives them to do things they normally wouldn’t do,” Bel interrupted. “That’s the excuse they make,” Garrett added. “It’s not an excuse,” Bel defended. “They appear to be a normal gargoyle with the standard driving force to save and protect humans ruling their actions one minute and then the next they’re trying to kill you.” “Is that so?” Sarcasm dripped from Bel’s words. “They came here by their own free will to help protect Jen.” Tears filled her eyes.

136

Reunited

“They came here because Starn ordered them to and that’s because he wants to impress you, Bel. Don’t kid yourself about their motives. They aren’t called impures for nothing.” “Why do they think I can heal them?” Jen interrupted them. “What?” Bel gave her a blank look. Her furry forehead wrinkled. Garrett could hear Jen’s thoughts. Sitting across from Bel was suddenly intimidating. He reached over and grabbed Jen’s hand. She tried to smile. “Just tell Bel what happened,” he encouraged. She nodded. “One of the rogues at my house, Jackson, begged me to heal him.” “They figured out who she was before I got there,” Garrett rushed to explain with a shrug. “They called me the Reconciler,” Jen said. “Like the ones in the yard just now. What exactly is a Reconciler?” she asked, looking from Bel to him. Those brown eyes captured Garrett and wouldn’t let go. He was in love with her. In love. God, it’d happened so quickly and he couldn’t refuse her anything. “I warned you to be careful. You’re treading on dangerous ground, Brother,” Bel said and stood from the table. “Where are you going?” he asked. “To sleep. My room.” She paused by him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “No, we’re leaving. The demons will return. We’ll cover you with a blanket or something.” “Oh, like that would work for more than a few seconds. Look, Starn has troops in town and all along the road. We’ll have plenty of warning if the demons come back. I’m not turning to stone unless I have to.” “I don’t trust his men to stay on the job, much less be around to warn us.” Garrett shook his head. “You’re leaving.” “Hell no, I’m not. Starn will do what I want. He sure won’t follow your orders and you might be stronger, but he has ten rogues outside. Do you want to fight all of them?” Garrett frowned at his sister. He couldn’t forcefully remove her without having to fight Starn’s army. “I can’t believe he agreed to let you stay.” “When push comes to shove, he’ll side with me,” Bel smiled. “The first sign of trouble, we’re leaving,” he said, not happy with his sister’s decision. “Good. I’m going to sleep. And remember, you can’t do what I know you’re wanting to do. Self-discovery is required.” Bel turned and padded down the hall toward her bedroom.

137

Sally Painter

It was all against his better judgment. Letting Bel stay and keeping Jen in the dark about her fate. He gritted his teeth. “Garrett? What did she mean she knows what you’re wanting to do, and what’s this about self-discovery being required?” Jen asked. He sensed the dread settling in her stomach. “Please tell me what’s going on.” “Look,” he sighed. “Bel knows we made love last night. The ground shaking was a result of a garg making love to a human. It’s believed the virus is a side effect of gargoyles taking humans as their mates.” Worry lines creased her forehead and he rushed to explain. “We aren’t mated, Jen. Mating is a ritual that’s explained only prior to performing it.” She nodded. “The virus began to spread through my race over seven hundred years ago. No one really knows how or why. But to safeguard the race, we’re forbidden to take humans for mates. Some gargoyles are slower to succumb to the virus and appear immune, like Bel and me, but eventually, our immune systems will weaken. There are less than a hundred of us who aren’t infected.” Although he tried to keep his voice calm, Garrett knew emotion coated his words. He gave her the barest of glimpses into his world. A world torn by disease, fear and hatred. “Just how many gargoyles are there?” “Two thousand five hundred and three.” “Wow, you know that exact?” she asked. “Of course.” “Tell me what a Reconciler is. Am I the Reconciler?” “If you are, then you’ll know it. No one will have to tell you. But it’s an answer you must discover on your own. That’s what Bel meant about self-discovery. Not just for you but everyone. Others can’t tell us who we are. I can’t say you’re the Reconciler. I might believe you are, Bel might and even those outside. But you are the only one who knows for sure.” He felt like a traitor and judging by the look in her eyes, she felt betrayed. He wanted to tell her everything. “Look, it’s forbidden for anyone to explain any of this to you. The repercussions would affect my entire race and yours.” He couldn’t condemn his people to extinction any more than he could allow her to sacrifice her life for them. “That’s all I can say, so please don’t ask me anything else.” The words pushed against his clenched teeth as he tried to control the uncontrollable—the truth. He squeezed her hand. The energy of her desire for him rushed to greet him but it was overshadowed by her need to know. He heard the demand from her soul to tell her everything. “I cannot.”

138

Reunited

“It’s so unfair,” Jen cried. “You’re my lover. My Protector. How can you deny me the truth?” “It’s not by choice, my love.” He stroked her cheek. He sensed her body’s response to his touch. A spark raced down her and drew her nipples into hardened buds. He wanted to suckle them. All thoughts of rogue gargoyles and the Reconciler fell away when he locked stares with her. Desire simmered in those brown pools. He wanted to feel her naked beneath him. Garrett ran his hand down the column of her neck and cupped the back of her head as he tugged her into a tender kiss. Scene after scene cascaded through his mind. The vision Jen created whenever her eyes shuttered closed as she climaxed. How she called out his name in ragged breaths, panting and writhing under him. His heart hammered, the blood surging to his cock, engorging it until it was stiff. The way she tasted—her scent—God, it was like gardenia-perfumed nights. Sultry. Sensual with low whimpers. Garrett lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bedroom. He couldn’t wait any longer.

139

Sally Painter

Chapter Thirteen “I want to feel myself inside you,” he whispered and kneeled down on the bed, moving over her. Overwhelmed by the emotions rampaging through her, Jen reached up and grabbed his face between her hands to receive his kiss. How she’d missed him. There was so much she wanted to say to him but the words would wait. When his lips parted, Jen plunged her tongue inside his mouth, capturing his, twisting and curling around it. Garrett groaned under her aggression and tightened his arms. His arousal excited her. With all the craziness of the past twenty-four hours, this was the only thing that made sense to her. Being with Garrett somehow cushioned the reality she’d awoken to that morning. He was her touchstone. In him there was escape from the new fears threatening to unravel her world. He’d saved her from demons and rogue gargoyles, but most importantly he’d saved her from a life carved out for her by others. She wanted to explore this new world with him without worrying about enemies lurking in the shadows. He broke from the kiss and stared down at her. “I need you, now,” he said. Her heart palpitated. Excited streaks shot through her. Jen ran her hand over his jawline and looked into his stare. The same fire coursing through her in a feverish rush smoldered in his eyes. She tugged the shirt over her head. Trembling with anticipation, she lifted the bra above her breasts, not bothering to unclasp it. Groaning, Garrett grasped an erect nipple between his lips and suckled it. The sensation raced to her clit and Jen moved to straddle his lap, leaning back in the circle of his arms to allow him easier access to her breasts. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip when his hand closed over her other breast and massaged, pinching her nipple. A throaty moan slipped past her lips. The tension from their morning flight from demons had left her with a desperate need for release. Did he feel the same way? Her juices flowed, ready to receive him, more than ready. If he kept suckling her breasts like that she wouldn’t be able to wait. As though reading her thoughts, he chuckled. Warm puffs of breath fanned over her breasts and he released the nipple to trail his hand over her stomach, dipping beneath the waistband. He paused with an odd look on his face. Jen giggled when she realized the PDA was still tucked in her shorts. She retrieved it and tossed it onto the bed.

140

Reunited

She didn’t know how it happened, how she’d shed her clothes, or how he had doffed his pants. All she was aware of was the feel of his naked body moving against her. Fingers groped and separated the wet lips of her pussy and she gasped in anticipation of his touch. She closed her eyes when he pressed his fingers into her swollen clit. Her senses filled with him. Only him. Garrett was her true soul mate. Every nerve ending ached for his touch. The frenetic energy rose higher up her spine and she moved against his fingers, panting as she chased the energy that teased her into a frenzy. “I want you with me always,” he said, lifting his head to gaze down at her. She was wet and hot. Energy pushed up her spine and she groaned when it slipped back down. He quickened his strokes and she moved mindlessly while tensing against the rhythm. Molten energy pooled and then exploded as the orgasm seized her, contracting the walls of her pussy. A delightful series of pulses cascaded over her in the wake of her release. “Garrett,” she gasped, as the liquid warmth flooded her channel. Her eyelids fluttered and she glimpsed his strained expression and knew it required all his willpower not to take her right then. He lowered his head to capture her lips in a long slow kiss that left her mindless and wanting more. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth and she sucked on it, drawing it deeper. The steely heat of his erection rubbed against her belly and she grabbed his buttocks, rolling her hips into his. His cock left a wet path across her abdomen. “I want you, Jen,” he breathed against the kiss and lifted onto his knees, sending a rush of cool air over her. Jen watched him wrap his fingers around his cock to stroke it. She reached up to grasp him. He let her knead him, moaning each time her hand cupped the sensitive tip. Her pulse was chaotic as she watched his bronzed body flex with each stroke. Bulging muscles glistened with sweat and he took a labored breath as she pumped her hand up and down his shaft. “I can’t wait any longer,” he panted. It was all Garrett could do to keep from plunging his cock inside her, but he wanted it to last longer. He needed to hear her low throaty murmur followed by a sexy wanton plea to take her. He swallowed the knot in his throat, choking off the words of love he longed to speak. Instead he growled underneath his breath. She lay staring up at him with those pools of brown mirroring the unspoken entreaty. An excited tremor shook him, exposing in its path the guarded emotions he dared not reveal to her. He dropped his stare so she couldn’t see the truth reflecting in his eyes. He’d lost his soul to her. When he opened his eyes, it was to her stare, wild and reflecting the same emotions churning in him. Prickly beads of sweat burst out over his brow. 141

Sally Painter

“Garrett, please, take me now. I want to feel you inside me,” she gasped, reaching up to stroke his face. When she curled her fingers around a strand of his hair, Garrett felt as though she’d wrapped them around his heart. He traced the slender column of her neck. Her soft skin felt feverish. He drew one hand over her breast, massaging and kneading then paused to trace a dusky-colored areola. The tender flesh puckered into a hardened nipple. “Please…” The word pressed between moist lips as she rolled her head back into the pillow with a deep throaty sound. He gazed at the tempting lips of her labia now glistening with her juices and leaned over, grasping her thighs to tug her to him. He pressed firm lips to her shaven pussy and slipped his tongue inside the velvety slit, wet and weeping with her come. He closed his eyes, savoring her juices. Knowing she was still sensitive from the orgasm, he flicked gentle strokes over the swollen flesh, teasing her into arousal until she began to move under the play of his tongue. Quickening the rhythm until it matched the one pounding inside him. He would never let her go. He needed to make Jen his mate. His cock throbbed harder at the thought. He rose onto his knees and lifted her legs over his shoulders, drawing her to him until rounded hips tilted against his chest. He lapped at the sweet nectar flowing from her pussy and cupped her buttocks with his hands, dancing his tongue over her hardening clit in a series of flutters. She moaned and writhed under his teasing. Sensing she tottered on the edge of orgasm, Garrett let her slide down the length of his chest and lowered her onto the bed once more with her legs still draped over his shoulders. He wrapped his fingers around his stiff cock and moved his hand up and down the swollen shaft, anticipating how it would feel once inside her hot little cunt. Her fragrance filled his head. God, she drove him wild. He watched as she dipped long fingers to her pussy and separated the plump lips to expose herself to him. She ran a finger over her clit, imitating the way his tongue had teased her. “Oh God, baby, you have the sweetest pussy. I want to feel my cock inside you and ride you until you scream my name,” Garrett groaned, and gently shoved her hand away so he could guide himself into her. Her opening was tight from the earlier orgasm but slick enough for him to glide inside her. The soft folds of her pussy encased his cock, drenching him with cum. Garrett groaned when her muscles gripped him as she climaxed again. The tightening sensation made him crazy with need. Did she have any idea what she did to him? Could she possibly know how his body burned for her? The pent-up hunger broke free and he rammed his cock into her, plunging past the rigid clamping. His breath rushed from him in a low throaty sound. His cock scraped past clenched muscles and he thrust faster. Slender hands grasped his buttocks, pulling him to her with each thrust. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she tilted her hips to receive him better. Heat burst past 142

Reunited

his pores and Garrett rammed his length into her. The sucking sound of their bodies, hot and sweaty, made his heart hammer harder. He pounded his cock into her pussy, rutting and grinding with only one thought left. Release. He sucked in air and drove into her until his balls slapped against her ass. Sweat poured down his back and the smacking sounds grew louder. Fucking her was sweeter than life. God, he’d never felt such intense pleasure. He didn’t want it to end, yet burned with the need to come inside her. He’d waited for this moment ever since awakening. In spite of the danger they faced, he’d visualized plunging his cock, harder than stone, inside her and drawing the very breath from her. Her moan preceded the tightening and clenching of the walls of her pussy as she came once more. Her orgasm excited him more than anything he’d ever sensed. She rocked with his movements, giving him the friction he needed to drive the molten energy down his length. It pooled at the sensitized tip, teasing him with rapturous sensations as the built-up energy pulsated in a rush for release. He arched his back, driving harder as the smacking sounds echoed above their labored breathing. She murmured unintelligible words and he could feel her arousal building again. His body tensed. The sweet release he sought retreated and he moaned. Incited, he fucked her harder, driving his cock in and out until she shuddered. “Oh baby. I can feel you coming again,” he grunted as her body spasmed once more and the primal energy shot through him. Neck muscles tensed and Garrett reared back. His body spasmed and his seed burst from the tip of his cock, spilling into her while he gripped her hips. He groaned and ground into her as the walls of her pussy clamped down hard on his length, milking his cock. Sweat drenched his hair. Damp strands clung to his back. He thrust in a slow easy movement, enjoying the wave of pulses quaking though him. “Garrett.” Her arms tightened around his neck and she pulled him to her. Wet lips locked over his. Heat rose from her face and she broke from the kiss, drawing in deep gasps of air. Still throbbing under the tightening of her muscles, Garrett groaned. He captured her mouth and plunged his tongue inside, loving her as he’d never imagined possible. She released her armlock and let her arms fall to her sides, relaxing her legs from around his waist. Slowly, she pulled from the kiss, panting heavily. The feverish rush left them spent and fully satisfied. “Garrett,” she whispered. “You…make…me…so hot.” Reluctantly, he eased from her and collapsed onto the mattress beside her. Drenched with sweat and his skin still blazing from their intense lovemaking, he shoved his damp hair from his face. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he whispered and pulled her into his arms. “I’m exhausted but I still want you, Jen,” he said. “I’ll never get enough of you.” She snuggled in his arms. Heat from her body radiated against his skin.

143

Sally Painter

“I find myself wanting you all the time,” she murmured, nuzzling his ear then dipping the end of her tongue inside. Her giggles brushed over his skin. The joy of being with her quickly darkened. “I’ve made everything so complicated,” he admitted. “I’m your Protector. I should never have made love to you.” His heart thudded heavily. How could he ever give her up? Garrett closed his eyes. She stopped toying with his ear and draped her leg over his. Her wet pussy pressed against his thigh and his heart pounded harder. Cradling her in his arms, Garrett let his stare move over her, touching her lips then falling to her rosy, puckered nipples. He licked his lower lip, longing to taste the sweet buds. “Do you regret making love to me?” she asked and he jerked his stare back to hers. “Never.” He brushed a thumb over her lips. How could anything be so soft? “I don’t want to hurt you.” Jen stiffened. It sounded like he was trying to break up with her. The realization struck hard. She could not give him up, not after just finding him. Life without Garrett would be worse than any hospital stay. “Are you…I mean…are you breaking off our relationship?” she asked, dreading the answer and trying to prepare herself for rejection. A barrage of emotions flashed across his eyes. She saw love but it was quickly replaced with worry and even anger. Jen held her breath, waiting. “Of course not. I’ll never let you go,” he whispered. “Then why all this talk?” Tears sprang to her eyes and she cupped his face with one hand and kissed him. He pulled from the kiss and her heart sank. “It’s not fair to you, Jen.” “Why? Because I’m the Reconciler?” He looked away. “I am. I know I am, Garrett.” Her tone of voice wasn’t convincing. He took one of her hands in his and lifted it to his lips. His body grew tense and Jen knew the answer before he spoke. “Yes,” he said in a low voice. “I believe you are the Reconciler.” The drumming heartbeat in her ears blotted out the words that followed. Jen searched his face for some sign of what the title might mean. She needed to understand. “What does it mean to be the Reconciler?” she asked, squinting as though his answer would hurt like a physical blow. “Have you ever heard of the Gargoyle Legend?” He released her hand and sat up to lean against the headboard, drawing her into his arms once more.

144

Reunited

“Of course,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “All kids growing up in Averyton know the Legend in one version or the other.” “According to the real Legend, the Reconciler must discover her destiny without any assistance. To rob you of self-discovery means certain death to everyone―to the world.” “You don’t honestly believe…” She sat up in bed. “I mean I couldn’t do that…I mean… Garrett? Really?” Jen was dumbfounded. That was not the answer she’d expected. “Gargoyles have protected the Legend and sought the Reconciler for centuries,” he said. “Okay, let’s say I believe all that. How can I discover what I’m supposed to do?” He shook his head and shifted from her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Garrett?” Jen reached out for him but he stood from the bed to walk over to the window. With his back straight, he lifted the quilt from the window. Early afternoon light spilled over him and fell to the floor as he stared outside. Jen let her gaze travel over his naked body, so tanned and taut. She wondered if suntanned bodies were a gargoyle trait since every gargoyle she’d met so far had one. His back muscles flexed and she was filled with want. Her stare glided past his trim waist to the most perfect male butt she’d ever seen. Delightful twinges throbbed in her groin. She wanted to grasp those firm indented cheeks like she had when he’d made love to her. “I can’t believe it.” He released a slow breath and glanced over his shoulder at her. “What?” she asked. “I thought somehow the sun would become my greatest enemy again, that my immunity to it would eventually wear off,” he smiled. “But I’m no longer myself.” “Is that a good thing?” she asked and stood to join him by the window. He dropped the quilt and the room darkened once more. When he turned to her, an excited glint sparkled in his eyes. “It was a wonderful thing since I was able to save you today.” Garrett reached out and she stepped into his embrace. “You’ve done that so many times I’m losing count.” It felt so right being naked and pressed against him. “I will always protect you.” He leaned down and covered her mouth with his.

***** Jen awoke with a start. “Garrett?” She turned over in bed only to find it empty. She hurriedly dressed in the same clothes from the previous day, absently thinking she must do something about

145

Sally Painter

her wardrobe, especially since she was now pantyless. She hurried from the room. Where was he? Her pulse sharpened. “Garrett?” she called out as she headed for the kitchen, her bare feet slapping the hardwood floor. “He’s gone out,” Bel said, glancing over her shoulder from where she stood in front of the stove, stirring a large pot. Delicious aromas filled the kitchen and Jen’s stomach rumbled. “Out where?” “He said to repair your back door and then something about cats. Do you have cats?” Jen nodded and looked away, surprised she was uncomfortable with Bel’s feline looks. Golden wings slightly opened behind Bel undulated whenever she moved. Bel wore a floral halter top and pair of lime green shorts, but the apparel looked out of place on her gargoyle physique. “He also said something about getting your clothes. I can lend you something to wear if you like. We look to be about the same size.” Bel glanced at her again and turned to open the refrigerator door. Jen watched in fascination. It was easy to forget their natural state of being. Forget Garrett was not a man but a gargoyle. Watching Bel wrinkle a furry nose and sniff the rosebud she retrieved from the refrigerator felt surreal. “I’d offer you one but I doubt you eat roses,” Bel chuckled and closed the door to face Jen while nibbling on the bud. “I have a hard time finding organic growers.” “Is it a treat for gargoyles?” Jen asked as Bel ate the coral-colored rose. She wished she had a camera. It was such an odd sight—Bel with lioness features, munching on a rosebud. “Just for me. I’ve loved them since I was a child.” “Oh.” Jen longed to ease the awkwardness of the moment. “I’m cooking a late afternoon lunch. Homemade vegetable soup.” “It smells great,” Jen said, “I wanted to ask if I might borrow your cell phone charger. My battery is dead.” She’d noticed Bel’s cell phone earlier and thought the charger just might fit hers. She wanted to call Eric and see if there was any news about Marcy and to verify he’d made the deliveries. She glanced at the clock on the stove. Six-thirty. She’d slept all afternoon. The day was over. Too late to do anything about missed deliveries, although she was certain Eric had handled everything in his typical responsible way. He’d probably tried calling her and would be worried when he received her voice mail. “The charger’s over there.” Bel nodded toward the dining table. Jen followed the direction of the nod and found it on the china cabinet. “Oh, and I need Garrett’s number.” She walked over to retrieve the charger.

146

Reunited

“I’ll write it down for you. And mine as well, although I think Garrett lost his phone earlier.” Bel grabbed a pad and pen from the counter and wrote down the numbers. “I know you’re anxious to call your employee, Eric.” Jen nodded, surprised Bel knew his name. “You’re worried about the girl too.” Jen wondered if telepathy was a gargoyle ability. “Garrett told me about Marcy.” Bel shrugged and handed her the paper. She took it but couldn’t see the numbers through the tears filling her eyes. Tears that flowed because she knew Marcy must be dead. “I think the demons took Marcy, mistaking her for me since she was driving the shop van,” Jen sniffed. “Every time one of you dies at the hands of a demon, well, it’s difficult to explain how it makes us feel. We’re charged to protect you. It’s an instinct similar to your maternal instinct, only stronger.” Bel closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s very painful for us when a human dies at the hands of a demon. We suffer from guilt as well as grief.” “I had no idea,” she whispered. “You aren’t responsible for Marcy’s fate,” Bel said. Her words struck Jen’s emotional seat and she clenched her jaw to keep from breaking down. “If the demons took her then she’s probably dead,” Bel said in a low voice. Jen started to respond in an angry tirade, telling Bel it was a cruel thing to say, but the words stuck in her throat. She knew Bel was only trying to prepare her. A sinking feeling tumbled to her stomach. In her heart she knew Marcy had been murdered by the demons. She felt it. It was such a strong feeling. One she couldn’t get rid of it. She had to think of something else or she’d surely break down. “How much longer do you think Garrett will be?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject. “Not much,” Bel said with a pensive look as though trying to decide whether or not she should speak. “Look, the demons know you’re here in Averyton. This morning’s ambush proves they can pick up your scent. I doubt they were sent here or there’d have been others by now. They probably followed your scent here. Like I said earlier, they’re a pretty disorganized lot. They run in packs and rarely know what the other is doing. “But a new kind of demon has emerged. He’s organizing them. Demons don’t typically attack during the day. Their energy levels are lowest between sunrise and sunset. And they don’t follow leadership very well, but this new leader, well, he used to be one of us.” “A gargoyle?” Jen gasped. “How is that possible? How can a gargoyle become a demon?”

147

Sally Painter

“I don’t know. His name is Dex Tracker but goes by Tracker. He used to be one of our fiercest warriors. Equal to Garrett. He became infected and has been a rogue for hundreds of years, but something happened recently. Somehow, the virus reactivated and he continued mutating until he became a demon.” “That gives him a big advantage.” Jen bit her lip. Bel nodded. “The demons that were killed here. You said they followed my scent. Does that mean other demons will track me here?” “If they find the scent. The next wave will wait until sunset or even wait for the moon to rise. The moon’s cycle is getting close to a full moon. Demons get their energy from the moon when it’s full, like it will be tomorrow night, they’ll be their strongest.” Bel had just confirmed what Jen always suspected, only she’d never known the hows or whys behind demonic behavior. “What can we do?” “Garrett is also finding us a safer place. We’ll be leaving as soon as he returns or at sunset, whichever arrives first.” Jen had hoped they could stay where they were. The waterfront house was comfortable. It felt like Garrett. “I feel so guilty about everything.” Jen frowned. “None of this is your fault. Just remember everything is always as it’s meant to be, Jen. Sometimes we’re pushed toward destiny and other times we’re given the luxury of discovering it for ourselves. You no longer have that luxury.” “What do you mean?” she asked, twisting the charger cord in her hands. “Jen.” The catch in her voice made Jen wince with a feeling of dread. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.” Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that tone of voice, it was the same tone her doctor used before discussing something unpleasant. “Have a seat.” Bel gestured to the table and chairs. “What’s this about? Garrett and me?” Bel tilted her head, pursing her lips together. “I really don’t want to discuss my relationship with Garrett.” Jen crossed her arms over her chest. Bel reached out and touched her arm. “I know you don’t but I do.” She sat down and waited for Jen to take the chair across from her.

*****

148

Reunited

Garrett zipped the luggage and started down the stairs, making a mental note to look for Jen’s cats one last time before leaving. The image of her lying in the bed with her hair splayed around her sent his body into overdrive. A longing, not just physical but emotional, tugged at him and he reached for his cell phone, needing to hear her voice. His fingers met an empty pants pocket and he remembered it was probably lying at the bottom of the swamp. If only his distance telepathic abilities weren’t impaired then he could connect with her. The taboo of making love to a human was no longer a concern. All that mattered was keeping her safe, and he’d made sure she was safe before coming to her house to repair the door. He wondered how Jen would react to his surprise. Would she like the houseboat he’d rented for them? No demon could get near her now. He’d only seen a demon attempt to be directly on water once in his life and the creature had burst to flame the moment it stepped onto the pier. If things got worse he’d simply untie the mooring and set anchor in the middle of Albemarle Sound. It was the perfect solution for her safety. Once settled in they’d christen the boat properly. Hope kindled in his soul and Garrett continued down the stairs, whistling an ancient Atlantean tune. Just one more stop and he’d be back with her. He glanced at his watch. After eight. Plenty of time to get to the church where he was meeting Yates, assign the troops to perches and be back home before sunset. Garrett took the landing and started down the steps to the foyer with visions of Jen filling his mind. He was going to ask her to be his mate. Would she say yes? He couldn’t believe he was going to mate with a human. He mentally shook his head. Not something he’d ever thought possible. And why shouldn’t he mate with her? What was to stop him? The act carried the same penalty as making love to her did. When the Sgaith Council discovered he’d broken the law, exile would be the price. Well, he’d just make sure the Council never found him. A niggling thought flashed through his mind. It wasn’t like him to be so nonchalant about breaking the law much less defying the Council. Perhaps he was infected with a new generation of the virus. He glanced up and his whistling hung in the air when his stare crossed with the woman standing in the foyer. Hands on hips, she glared up at him with full red lips pursed together and an angry scowl darkening her olive complexion. “Yates? What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I was going to ask you the same thing, Commander.” She took a step closer. “How is it you’re out and about in the daytime?”

149

Sally Painter

Chapter Fourteen “I could ask you the same thing. It’s obvious you’ve transformed, Yates.” Garrett frowned. Dammit, this was the last thing he needed. “Where are my troops?” “They had a little accident in the morning sun.” “And you didn’t,” he said. “How long?” “A week. And you?” she asked. Garrett didn’t answer because he wasn’t convinced he was infected. “So I guess the Sgaith Council was right. You’ve gone rogue and are headed on a collision course.” “And when did they say that?” he challenged, knowing it could easily be a lie since she was now a rogue. “I received a very interesting phone call this morning ordering me to escort you at sunset to your hearing of exile.” “Of course, you didn’t tell them you were no longer Clisneach,” he said. “Have you?” she asked, flicking her long straight hair over one shoulder. “No need. I’m not a mutant.” “Oh yeah?” she laughed. “You sure look like one to me.” She walked in front of him, letting her gaze move down his torso, pausing at his crotch and then back to his face. Garrett could sense her attempt to probe his mind. “Looks can be deceiving. Take you for instance. You don’t appear delirious with rage or passion,” Garrett said, trying to gauge how far gone she might be. “My transformation was every bit that and more. But it was over within twelve hours.” “Oh really?” he chuckled. “That would be a first. Rogues don’t get over the transformation—ever.” “What about your transformation? Was it as much fun as mine was?” She turned her head, running her tongue over her lower lip as though she was enjoying a fantasy. “I haven’t transformed. Not like you mean.” “Really?” She folded her arms over her chest. “I thought the need to fuck a human was the driving force of transformation. Was for me. Of course, fucking everything else in between is also fun. But I savored my one and only earth-shaking moment when I took my first human and became rogue. I mean, we all get that first-time quake, Garrett. It’s a real rush. Wish I could have it over and over again. You know how it feels. You had yours.” “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t transforming.” 150

Reunited

“No? Then what was the reason you took Jen Ormand as your lover last night?” Her voice grated with a possessiveness alien to his second-in-command. “You’re jealous?” he asked. “Jealous of her?” Her stare narrowed on him. “I don’t think so.” Garrett stepped down into the foyer and dropped the bag by the door. “Oh, I recognize female jealousy when I hear it. I just never thought you felt that way. I mean, you never gave the slightest indication you were attracted to me.” “You never noticed. You were so obsessed with finding your precious Reconciler you never paid attention to anything else.” “That’s the virus talking, Yates. You never had any romantic feelings for me.” “You’re such an ass,” she said. “I tried to tell you so many times but I couldn’t compete with your quest. And from what I’ve heard you didn’t just find her, you fucked her, you son of a bitch!” She lunged for him and Garrett dodged the kick aimed at his head, pinning her arms behind her back. “Let me go, you bastard,” she growled between sobs. “I’m sorry you became infected, Yates. I depended on you, but you no longer have any authority with the Clisneach. When the Sgaith Council learns about your transformation—” “She’s not here on behalf of the Sgaith Council,” Jackson spoke behind him. “Yeah,” said the other gargoyle who stepped around Jackson. “Red?” Garrett released his hold on Yates and turned just as Red slammed a powerful punch into his face. Jackson tackled him and Garrett crashed to the floor, swinging punches at his attackers. Addled from the blows, he was still stronger and fought the two rogues, sending them flying across the foyer into the opposite wall. “Dammit, Yates. It doesn’t have to be this way.” He spat the blood from his mouth and rose onto one knee in an attempt to stand. Yates rushed over to him and for a moment he thought she was going to help him stand, but was surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and covered his mouth with hers. Rage roared through him and Garrett grabbed her by the arms. A heavy gold medallion suspended from a bulky gold chain thudded against his chest. He stood up but halted when a familiar sensation began to spread out from his chest. The hardening crept down his arms and torso. “What the hell have you done, Yates?” The words froze in his mouth as the stone crackled and hardened over his face. “I won’t give you up to some human bitch. I don’t care if she is the Reconciler. If I can’t have you, love, no one can,” she purred.

151

Sally Painter

“Hey, I thought you said we were kidnapping him for Tracker,” Jackson wheezed as he staggered to his feet. “That we are, boys. He’s my insurance policy for the new world our demon friends are going to usher in tomorrow night. Come on. Carry him out to the truck but be careful. I don’t want him messed up. I have twenty-four hours of play time before he has to be delivered and I want him in one piece. Let’s go!”

***** “Hey, you forgot your change,” the convenience store clerk called after Dex Tracker. Reading the front page of the local newspaper he’d just bought, Tracker held out his hand and the clerk plunked the change into it. He rammed the coins into his shorts pocket and shoved the glass door open. Sudden heat blasted him, melting the airconditioned chill into a sticky perspiration over his skin. “Damn fucking heat.” He climbed into the SUV and started the engine, flipping the air conditioner on to max. The cool air chilled the sweat running down his face. Sweet relief, he sighed, absently wondering why his transformation hadn’t been into a heatloving demon. The shrill ring of his cell phone drew his attention. He retrieved it from his shirt pocket. “Yeah?” he answered. “Boss. I got bad news.” Tracker clenched his jaw, immediately recognizing Red’s voice. “You there, boss?” “What did the idiots screw up this time?” “Jen Ormand is in hiding,” the gravelly voice said and paused. “How the hell did that happen?” Rage burst inside him. “You know demons, boss, no offense, but they don’t take direction. They’re all about working in packs and since no two packs will work together, well, they decided to kidnap her last night instead of waiting for your arrival tonight, and work your plan with the Dolby kid. They wanted to present her to you as some kind of gift. So one pack staked out the cemetery and the other went to her shop.” “Dammit! Who’s in control?” “That’s my point. Neither group knew what the other was doing and the sheriff was completely out of the loop. And that kid, Eric, he’s gone missing.” “Back up. Start at the beginning.” “Okay. The locals nabbed the girl that worked for Jen Ormand by mistake.” “Shit. Did you get her away from them?” “No, boss. They got a little carried away. You know how demons get when they have a human captive. They ah…sacrificed the girl in the swamp. The police just found

152

Reunited

her body. Well, what’s left of it. Damn, boss, it’s a mess. The sheriff is running around the swamps looking for the Dolby kid, blaming him for the murder.” Tracker’s breath quickened. He’d arrived in town too late. All his plans were botched. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled. Blood pumped to his head. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “How did this get so fucked up? We had a specific plan. Why wasn’t it followed?” “I don’t know, boss. They’re an undisciplined bunch. They aren’t like you. Stupid bastards won’t use a cell phone or a two-way. It’s impossible to communicate with them. They’re so backward. No offense, boss, I know you aren’t like them.” “You told me the last time we talked I could count on the sheriff. You said he was an earth demon, not one of those underworld inept ones. He should be pretty acclimated to the human world to hold down the job of sheriff.” “Yeah, he was born to a human.” “This should never have happened. I don’t blame the demons. I blame you, Red.” “What can I say? You try getting this bunch into some kind of order. I admit I should have personally filled the sheriff in on what to do instead of trusting the demons to do it. But, boss, you have no idea what I’m dealing with. I’m telling you, there’s no controlling these idiots. They’re always arguing. I’ve never seen such chaos. Compared to them, dealing with an earth demon is a breeze.” “So what kind of damage control are you doing? What about the sheriff?” “He now knows about tomorrow night and we can count on him.” “Okay. So our biggest problem right now is the kid.” Tracker’s mind raced with possibilities, but it was impossible. They’d all scattered like roaches. “Well, he’s one part of the problem.” “What do that mean?” “First let me tell you about the plan the sheriff came up with. He declared the kid a suspect, so when he catches up with the boy, he’ll just park him in the jail for you.” All the weeks of planning had been for nothing. When his minions had told him about Eric Dolby, Tracker couldn’t believe his luck. The kid had been easy to groom. A few lies and he’d unknowingly fallen right in with the plans. He’d convinced the kid Jen Ormand was in danger and Eric could protect her. So he’d landed a job working with her. When Eric had abandoned his father’s shrimp business, Tracker was convinced of the teenager’s commitment. “Do you have any idea where Eric is?” Tracker asked. Killing the boy’s old man hadn’t solidified control over the teenager as he’d hoped. “Who knows? If he’s in the swamps…well, it’s there are several big ones around here.”

153

Sally Painter

“I’m going to kill someone. Maybe I’ll just torture you for all eternity,” Tracker seethed. “We still have time. He doesn’t turn seventeen until tomorrow night. We both know a water demon can’t make its first kill until the eve of his seventeen birthday. We’ll open the Abyss tomorrow night just as you planned, boss.” “Your eternity will be determined on how well you deliver on these promises,” he said. “I can’t believe this mess. I thought everyone knew the fucking Legend well enough to know we couldn’t secure the Reconciler until the day before the kid’s birthday. “So why the hell did those morons think they could kidnap her? Didn’t they know she was protected, just like she was as a child? We’re powerless against her until that small window of opportunity opens up the day before the kid’s birthday. Hell, demons tried to capture her when she was child and failed. You’d think they’d have some kind of knowledge of those attempts. Fucking idiots!” “I know, boss. I know. We had her under surveillance ever since she returned home, just like you ordered. But these locals, well, they just struck out on their own to kidnap her a day early.” “How exactly did she manage to escape them?” Tracker paused to rein in his anger. “You’re not going to like this one, boss.” “Just tell me dammit.” “It was Dermonté.” “Son of a bitch! When did he get into town? How did he know she was here?” “Beats me, but you know he’s always so damn dedicated to finding the Reconciler.” “Where’d he take her?” “I don’t know that yet, boss.” “Well, maybe once you get up with Yates―” “She’s on board,” Red interrupted. “So here’s the good news. Jackson and I teamed up with her and the three of us took care of Dermonté this afternoon. Got him on ice until you say the word.” “Well finally something worth hearing. With him out of the way we can accomplish our mission as long as you locate the boy and the Reconciler in time.” “I promise, boss, I’ll find both of them. As for Dermonté, Yates said to tell you that she can handle him if you don’t have time.” “Pretty confident, isn’t she?” “Well, you know how Yates is.” Tracker snorted He knew only too well. The female warrior was ambitious and strong-headed. He’d keep a tight rein on her, but for now she could do what she wanted with her prize.

154

Reunited

“Garrett can wait until after tomorrow night. Get all the assets rounded up. We’re going to find the boy and then pry the Reconciler out of hiding. The ceremony will take place tomorrow night as planned. Understand?” “I’m on it.” “Check back at twenty-two hundred and, Red, I want you to have your mess cleaned up by the next time we talk.” “You can count on me, boss.” The phone clicked and Tracker ended the call. “Stupid redneck demons and unreliable rogues.” He gritted his teeth. Dealing with demons, especially ones he didn’t know, was proving to be his biggest challenge. His plans were built upon the friendship the kid had with Jen Ormand. Surprise would no longer be on his side. “God dammit!” He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and threw the SUV into drive, peeling out onto Main Street. Traffic slowed to a crawl along the bay. He stared at the choppy waters slapping against the sea wall a few feet away. Hard pains shot through him, cramping his stomach muscles so badly he doubled over the steering wheel. The light changed and as he drove further away from the water, he began to feel better. Tracker glared at the quaint specialty shops lining the street. How had Garrett discovered the Reconciler was in Averyton? Had he stumbled upon the ambush or had he been guarding her? Tracker slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The bastard was forever getting in his way. Fortunately, he had a network of rogue gargs still loyal to him, including Red who’d served as his lieutenant back in the day. No doubt Red had hoped to do some damage control and delayed calling him about this mess. Slowing at a stoplight, he strained to read the street name partially hidden by a row of Bartlett pear trees. “Fifth.” He relaxed his sweaty grip on the steering wheel until the next stoplight. The moon peeped over the skyline and a burst of energy shot through him. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Tracker imagined his hands closing around Garrett’s throat. He squeezed harder. His resolve had been cemented the night Jack, his twin, was murdered. Tracker straightened in the seat. That bastard Dermonté had transformed his life forever. He cleared his throat. The need for revenge was stronger than any driving force he’d ever experienced. Stronger than the mutant virus or the heighten sex drive it created. Anger knifed through him. The only consolation to the endless burden of pursuit was the sweet promise of revenge. He’d start extracting that once this was over. He had a place all prepared to imprison Garrett. Excitement coursed through him at the thought of the many tortures he’d planned for the commander. No doubt Garrett had secured his prize somewhere on the water. It didn’t matter what the Clisneach did, he knew their protocols and could anticipate their every move. At last he was able to turn off the main drag and take the back streets and alley short

155

Sally Painter

cuts to the sheriff’s office. He was determined to rein in the local law enforcement but needed to make one stop on the way. A visit warranted by the turn of events. Leaning over to open the glove compartment, he retrieved a .45 pistol and steered the car into a back alley. The SUV rolled past a group of people loitering in the back of a fast-food mart. He searched for the familiar face. Grunting, he drove on and turned onto a side street that took him to the poor section of town. Slowing down, he glimpsed a figure leaning against a dumpster in a back parking lot. He braked the SUV in front of a dilapidated building. Sensing his stare, the man looked up. The man dropped the brown bag he was drinking from and it crashed to the pavement. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the deserted street as the man took off on foot down another back street. “Pretty agile for an old coot,” Tracker laughed, always enjoying a bit of sport with his prey. He turned down another side street and careened around the corner just as the man darted onto the street. He froze and Tracker rolled down his window. “You can’t run from me, so you might as well stop trying.” The old man stepped around the front of the vehicle, staggering over to the driver’s side. He slouched forward, panting. The alcohol on the vagrant’s breath assaulted Tracker’s senses. “Where’s the kid?” Tracker asked, leaning out the window. He glanced down the dark alley then back to the old man. “How the hell should I know when the police don’t even know?” “Because I paid you five hundred dollars two months ago to make sure he stayed put until I arrived in town, old man. You do remember Red, don’t you?” The old man’s eyes widened. “Yeah, he showed me your picture so I’d recognize you when you got to town.” “He also delivered my money into your greedy hands. I expect that’s now an investment in your future. Meaning, you’ll have one when you bring the boy to me. Now, where is he?” he asked and lifted the pistol, resting the barrel on the edge of the open car door window. The man took a step back. “You ain’t going to shoot me, are you? Then you’d be out the money and the boy.” “I want what I paid for. Get me the boy, and we’ll be even.” The old man nodded. “Where is he?” He lowered the gun and placed it in his lap within easy reach. “I heard he’s holed up inside a church down by the swamp. You can’t miss it. Roof’s all caved in. Deserted years ago. That’s where you’ll find him.” “Get in. You’re taking me to him.” “That ain’t part of our deal.” He backed away from the SUV. “It is now.” Tracker lifted the gun again.

156

Reunited

“Okay. Just be careful with that thing.” He stumbled around the vehicle to the passenger side and opened the door. “Who told you about his whereabouts?” Tracker asked as the man climbed inside and slammed the door closed. “Some guy who was down in the swamps doing things he’s not supposed to be doing.” “What kind of things?” “Moonshining. He first thought a Fed had found him out, but when he saw the kid, he recognized him ‘cause he worked for the boy’s old man.” “Who else have you told about this?” “Nobody. You think I want to end up like that girl?” “What’s that mean?” “Shit man, don’t you know what’s going on around here?” he asked. “I know you couldn’t have learned about this from the news ‘cause they’re going to keep it quiet so they don’t scare off the tourists. But all the locals are whispering about it. That poor girl was butchered and no kid can do what was done to her. Not Eric. No sir, he’s a good kid.” “What are they saying about the girl’s death?” “Word is, that girl, Marcy, wasn’t supposed to be driving the flower shop van last night and whoever killed her was really after her boss lady. Girl was just in the wrong place, right time. Damn shame.” Anger sprang in Tracker every time he thought about the botched job. Not only had the locals killed the wrong person, they’d let Jen Ormand escape. He decided to see what else the old man might know. “Why did they want to kill this flower shop owner?” he asked. “I ain’t got no idea. All I know is Eric’s being hunted for the girl’s murder.” “Why do the police suspect him?” “Who knows, man? Everyone, folks like me, knows there’s something strange going on. We just don’t know what it is. It’s like some big secret. Only, ‘cause it’s a secret we don’t know what it is.” He slapped his skinny thigh with his gnarled hand and cackled at the joke. “Ain’t that rich, man? Oh, turn right on this road.” He pointed to the intersection. “What’s going to happen to the boy?” “Seems he’s destined to follow in his daddy’s footsteps,” he said and pointed to a side road leading out of town. “Turn on that one. It’ll take us to the church.” “So what’s he destined for, old man?” Tracker asked, turning onto the unpaved road. “Death, more than likely. Oh, they said it was an accident. That old Dolby fell overboard while out on his trawler but we all know it weren’t no accident.”

157

Sally Painter

“And how do you know that?” Tracker asked. He had ordered the fisherman’s death when the water demon refused to help him. No amount of money could bribe him to turn over his son and Tracker need the kid to unseal the Abyss. “I know it weren’t no accident ‘cause he was a shrimper from the time he sucked his momma’s teats. He sure wouldn’t be tripping over the side of his own trawler. No sir.” “So Eric’s all alone and running scared.” “Nah, his momma’s still around, but sure he’s scared. And with good reason. Here’s the turn off. Stop. Stop here.” “Why?” Tracker slammed on brakes. “’Cause this is where I get out.” “I don’t think so.” Tracker raised the pistol. “Hell, what you doing? Don’t point that damn thing at me again. What’s wrong with you?” he asked and cowered against the door, trying to unlock it. The man’s eyes widened with terror. Tracker lowered the gun and sniffed in the tempting odor of fear. “Man, you’re fucked up. I want outta this vehicle.” He jerked on the door handle but it wouldn’t open. “You’re going to take me to the boy. We have a deal, remember?” Tracker threw the SUV into gear and sped down the sandy road. “Just put that gun away, man. I’m not going to back out of our deal.” He straightened in the seat and swiped his twisted fingers at his nose. The moon was now above the trees and illuminated the night. The strength began to tense his muscles. The sandy road was narrow with scraggly grass and sea oats clumped in the middle making it difficult to determine where the road was. “Wouldn’t the cops have searched out here?” “I guess. Hell, it’s a big swamp. Even if the State claims it as some natural resource. Can you imagine advertising a swamp as some kind of state park? I ask you, who the hell is going to come out here other than bug scientists and moonshiners?” “A kid who’s wanted for murder?” “Yeah.” He rubbed the gray stubble on his chin and peered out the window. “About two hundred feet ahead, you’ll see a sharp cutoff. That’s the one you want.” Tracker turned onto the nearly indistinguishable road. “There,” the man said, holding his gnarled finger in front of him. Tracker stared at the burned-out wooden structure. House or church? It was impossible to tell and certainly not enough left to provide a hiding place. He slammed on the brakes. “Get the hell out of my truck.” His finger jerked against the trigger of the .45. “But I thought you wanted the kid.” 158

Reunited

“You had your chance to turn him over to me. If you really knew where he was you wouldn’t be wasting my time. You don’t know where the kid is, you stupid old fuck.” He leveled the barrel on the man. “Now take it easy. I can find him for you. For the right price,” the old man said. “What’s the right price?” “I’m reasonable but I do get tired of hitching rides. I could use a fancy car like yours.” “Reasonable, huh?” He couldn’t believe the human’s audacity. “I’m sure the sheriff would be in real interested in what you’re up to.” The old man shrugged. “I’m not someone you want to mess with.” “I’m peeing in my pants from fear,” the man laughed. “You should.” Heat rose over Tracker’s face and his temples throbbed as the bumps beneath his flesh began to grow. Sweat drenched his back and he groaned when the horns tore through his skin. The man’s stare widened on him. The gnarled horns thrust the rest of the way through the ridge of his scalp, bringing sweet release to the pressure. “Oh my God. Let me out of here.” The man fumbled for the door handle but Tracker hit the childproof lock. The man jerked around, wild-eyed and trembling. “WWhat the fuck are you?” “One of those things that goes bump in the night.” Tracker grinned, enjoying the enticing smell of fear. He sucked in the aroma and a slight buzz swirled through his head. “Oh hell!” The man pulled the door handle again but it wouldn’t open. “Now you’ll quit wasting my time with ridiculous demands.” “J-Just go back the way we came and turn left on the first road.” “See how easy that was?” he snarled. “Please let me go.” “Sure. Once we get the boy. You’re not important to me unless you waste more of my time. Then you become very important as an obstacle and I crush all obstacles.” “I won’t. Quick, turn here and go about eight miles then turn in the first road you come to. I’d never—had I known. I mean—” “Never mess with people you don’t know. You don’t know what a person, or in my case, demon, is capable of doing.” The man’s face drained of all color. Tracker couldn’t suppress the laughter. “Let me go!” The man fumbled with the door lock. “Better settle down. Your fear’s setting my hunger loose.” “W-What?” He pressed his back against the door, as if trying to melt into the vehicle.

159

Sally Painter

“Do you know the biggest thrill in hunting humans isn’t the actual kill? It’s the anticipation. You see, human fear has a sweet and intoxicating scent to my kind. It’s how we find you in the dark.” “Oh shit.” “But it’s the way you squirm when cornered that sets my demon blood on fire.” The man tried to lower the window but Tracker had locked that too. “If you can’t control your fear, I won’t be able to resist killing you for the sheer pleasure of it.” The man stopped struggling and glanced over at him. “There now,” Tracker said and took a deep breath, rubbing the broken skin around his horn. “I really don’t have time to get sidetracked.” “I-I’m calm.” The man’s voice was feeble and quivered with that scintillating sound—panic. Tracker sniffed and glared at the puddle on the floorboard. “Looks like you’re peeing after all.” “Oh God, please don’t kill me. I swear, I won’t tell anyone.” “I’m sure you won’t,” he grinned, already feeling the energy of the human life relinquishing under his fingers. He would enjoy taking this one’s measly life. The odor wafted to his side of the car. He breathed it in through flared nostrils. “That’s the aroma I live for. Addicted the first time I ever smelled it. Curls up my nostrils and triggers all those magnificent sensations that make being a demon so damn worthwhile.” He contemplated the man. It had been some time since he’d fed off the energy of a human. He recalled the days when killing humans was all he lived for. His fingers elongated into long thick claws with dark pointed tips. The man beside him whimpered and pushed himself deeper into the crevice between the door and seat. Tracker released a deep groan, glancing sideways at his victim. “I just can’t resist such fear.”

160

Reunited

Chapter Fifteen “I’m scared. Some guys out in the swamps found Marcy. She’s…she’s dead—” Eric’s voice broke off. “Th-the cops went to my house looking for me. God, Jen, they think I did it. I could never do anything like that to Marcy or anyone. My mom’s upset and alone, but I can’t go home. I don’t know what to do.” Jen listened to the voice mail, having lost count of how many times she’d replayed it. She’d tried calling Eric but every call automatically rolled over into his voice mail. She’d sent him an email and even texted him without a reply. So she’d called his mom. No answer. When she called Marcy’s mom, the person she spoke with said Mrs. Reames had been sedated. “This can’t be happening,” Jen sobbed as she sat in the chair by the window, overlooking the front yard. When she’d first heard Eric’s desperate messages, she’d wanted to call the sheriff and tell him Eric was innocent. Of course, that was out of the question. Fred was a demon and no doubt looking for her too. Grief overwhelmed her. All her fears about Marcy had been realized. Her heart ached for the girl, knowing her final moments must have been spent in absolute terror. She needed to talk to Garrett and even though she knew he’d lost his phone, she still called him just to hear his voice mail message. Her stomach knotted. She must do something. Anything to feel as though she was being proactive. Somehow. Finally, out of sheer frustration, she decided to research the Gargoyle Legend, specifically the Reconciler. She needed Garrett. He should have been home hours ago. Had the demons captured him? She knew Bel was growing just as worried as she, but hid it by baking and calling everyone she knew to join in a search for him, forbidding Jen to leave the house. The sun threatened to dip below the trees. Day would soon give over to night and Bel said they’d be leaving for the marina with or without Garrett once it was dark. She looked down at the small screen and clicked on the link. The website was not as complete as she’d hoped. It gave only a brief summary of the Legend with a short description of the Reconciler and her Protector. Jen reminded herself that so much information on the Internet was either incomplete or riddled with inaccuracies. Besides, it was a legend, not historical fact. When she started reading how the demonic world had been preying upon humans since the beginning of time, she couldn’t stop reading and searching for more information. Next, she read how gargoyles were spiritual warriors of angelic ancestry sent to live among the humans as their protectors. She glanced out the window at the fading day. Just how old was Garrett? And why had he never mated? She looked back at the screen. The writings told about a new 161

Sally Painter

demon king who would capture the Reconciler. Her pulse quickened. In an effort to free herself, the Reconciler would be forced to accept her inner self. It felt so strange to read about herself in what was touted as secret lost documents. She was about to close the screen when a passage caught her attention. And in those days, gargoyles sometimes chose their mates among the humans, transforming them into gargoyles until one day the mighty gargoyles began to lose their powers from what many believed was a curse. Who was responsible for the curse or how it came to be placed upon the race of gargoyles has been lost over time. Later the Sgaith Council decreed the transformation was caused by a virus transmitted and created by sexual intercourse between a gargoyle and a human. Believed to be nature’s way of keeping the race pure. In an effort to counter the disease ravaging the mighty Clisneach Guard, the gargoyle Sgaith Council decreed it unlawful for a gargoyle to mate with a human being. From that time on any gargoyle breaking this law was frozen in time between the seven heavens. A gargoyle suspended in time was said to be exiled. Jen gasped. Her heart pounded harder. It couldn’t be true. She tried to calm the panic. Garrett said they weren’t mated, even though they’d made love. How did gargoyles mate? Jen sat staring at the screen. She knew nothing about gargoyles and their culture so how could she understand what they termed as mating? She read on but didn’t find any explanation and clicked on the hyperlink Reconciler. And the Reconciler will have the power to reunite the divided factions. She will lead the Clisneach Guard into a final battle against the demons and assure the Abyss remains sealed. “Oh my God,” she gulped. Just how was she going to accomplish all that? She wasn’t a warrior. Of course, the document didn’t give any hints. It did, however, list her powers. Jen leaned forward. The power to vanquish the demon king. That wasn’t much help. She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. The power to heal. This one caught her attention. Did it mean to physically heal or heal like Garrett had healed her? She read on. The Reconciler will possess the power to heal all wounds. That might come in handy if she was going to lead them all into be a final battle. Jen shook her head. She wasn’t a leader or a healer. The power of precognition. Again, no details provided. The power to reconcile the Clisneach Guard. She stared at the last one for a long time, wondering how she could possibly achieve such a feat. How could she overcome a division that was the result of a disease? She clicked on another link and read about the gargoyles and their appearance as rain spouts on buildings in France. She went back to the passage about human mating and 162

Reunited

the powers she had. Did she really possess all those powers? She’d tapped into a few of them already, but invisibility wasn’t listed as one. She placed the PDA on the table by the chair and decided to see what powers she actually had. Maybe she could do more than break up fights. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on the lamp by the bed and willed it to lift from the makeshift stand of stacked boxes. Voices sounded from the kitchen and Jen immediately recognized Starn’s baritone. Grabbing the PDA, she hurried across the room. She jerked the door open and the voices greeted her before she entered the kitchen. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. I’m telling you what I know. Either you come with me now or she’ll be demon snack food within the hour. I can’t assure her safety or yours if you stay here.” “What about Garrett?” Bel’s voice trembled as though she fought back tears. “I don’t know, Bella. No one knows anything. My team has scoured the whole area. Nada. Come on, get your—” “What’s going on?” Jen asked as she stepped into the kitchen. She caught the fear in Bel’s reddened eyes, noticing she’d returned to her human form. The sun must have set. She glanced through the window at the fading pink sky. Bel stood beside Starn with her hands clenched into hard fists by her sides. “Where’s Garrett?” Jen asked since they hadn’t answered her first question. “We don’t know,” Starn answered. “It appears he made it to your house and replaced the back door. I found this inside near the staircase.” He dropped the large cloth bag down in front of her. Jen recognized her overnight bag, a handmade patchwork of bright colors created by a well-known Savannah artist. “No sign of your cats either.” “Garrett wouldn’t just leave,” she said. “Of course he wouldn’t. He’s been kidnapped by demons,” Bel said. “Maybe.” Starn shrugged. “Or maybe not. Could be the virus kicked in full bloom and he just walked away.” “No,” Jen said. “Garrett wouldn’t desert me.” “She’s right.” Bel looked up at him. “The virus makes you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do.” Starn’s voice was full and deep. Jen saw the pained look he gave Bel. “Look, I’m taking both of you to my houseboat at the marina. No demon can get you there.” Starn glanced at Jen. She stared at his broken hand, sensing the pain beneath the cast, but there was more. She focused on him and saw the energy sparking from him, appearing like a heat wave from a metal object too long in the sun, only it was a mixture of red and orange. It swirled toward her in a thin stream no wider than a string of yarn. It curled through the air and slammed into her. Jen jerked under the shock, not a physical blow but one of pressure. Her ears rang and she blinked, suddenly knowing everything about Starn and his pain, not the physical but the agony he suffered from being

163

Sally Painter

different from Bel. His strong hatred toward the Clisneach, his longing for revenge, made her shiver. Thoughts of Bel flashed across her mind. Bel’s tears. Tears Starn had kissed and absorbed into his body, the same way Garrett had hers. His wounds were ancient yet hidden, shielded from her probing. She tried to see what had caused the pain but came up against a wall. He was an outcast of his race, yet here he was helping them once more. Jen sought his psyche, peeling back the layers of emotion. Then suddenly it all disappeared. A steel wall rose around him and shut her out. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Starn glared at her, stiffening his back. He’d sensed her. She’d never had anything like that happen. “Stop it, Starn. She’s the Reconciler. What do you think she’s doing? What comes natural.” Bel nodded to her. “I didn’t mean to pry.” Jen felt silly and embarrassed. Starn’s angry glare hardened. “I-I could feel your pain, that’s all I was doing.” At that moment she made a decision. “I’m not going with you.” “What?” they asked in unison. “If I’m the Reconciler then I have a duty and some kind of destiny I need to discover on my own, right?” “Yes, but it doesn’t mean you act foolishly,” Bel said. “Which boat slip is yours?” “1929, but—” Starn answered. “I can find it.” “Wait a sec,” Bel interrupted. “What exactly are you going to do?” “Find Garrett.” “My men have been searching for him all day. What makes you think you can find him?” Starn asked. “I just realized since I’m the Reconciler and he’s my Protector, I might be able to find him. I’ve been doing some research.” She held up the PDA. “And from what I can piece together, my job is to help in this final battle with the demons and somehow reconcile the two factions of gargoyles.” “Thank God you know.” Relief washed over Bel’s face and she released a deep sigh. “I’m not clear why I had to discover it on my own.” She directed the comment to Bel. “Self-discovery cannot be circumvented.” “In reading about the Reconciler’s abilities, I think I need to explore mine and see if I can track by scent. Surely I should possess such a skill. I mean you can smell demons and track individual humans, right?” Bel nodded.

164

Reunited

“But you can’t track each other.” “There’s never been a need. We always had telepathic communication until—” “The virus disrupted it,” Jen said. “I want to try picking up Garrett’s scent.” “And then what, Xena?” Starn clipped and Bel jabbed her elbow in his side. “I didn’t ask for this role,” Jen said, slightly irritated at his sarcasm. “Believe me, I was happier believing I was mentally ill all these years, but if I’m supposed to help save the world, I can’t do it without Garrett. He’s the only one who can protect me,” Jen stated. She’d not read that anywhere, only that the Reconciler had a Protector. Instinct told her only Garrett could keep her safe. “Well it wasn’t Garrett fighting the demons this morning. It was my men protecting both of you. It’s been my men posted around here all day.” “And while I appreciate it, I can’t undo their deaths. I wish I could.” “We took them back to the club this morning and set them up in the back room so they can recover. Give them another day and my guys will be back out there kicking demon ass, sweetcakes,” Starn said. “But I still need Garrett, not just because he’s my Protector,” Jen said. “Hey, I get it. It’s love. But remember, it’s your funeral, Reconciler or not.” Bel shook her head and shot him a warning glare. “I’ve exhausted all my resources in finding my brother. I talked with Yates when he didn’t return this afternoon. And I just called her again. She has no idea where he is or how to locate him.” “She?” Jen stiffened. A prickly sensation skittered down her spine. Jealousy was a new emotion for her where Garrett was concerned. Jen noticed how Starn straightened at the mention of the female. Jen reprimanded herself. Garrett had made her feel safe and protected. She had no reason to doubt his loyalty to her. “Yates is Garrett’s lieutenant,” Bel rushed to explain. “And she would typically know Garrett’s whereabouts?” she asked. “He was to meet her this evening at sunset. She’s traveling a day ahead of our troops and just arrived at the designated place but Garrett never showed.” Bel paused. “I have to find him.” Jen started for the door but Bel moved in front of her. “Whoa there, babe. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great you’re stepping up to the plate and claiming your birthright. But what makes you believe you can pick up his scent?” Bel asked. “Earlier this afternoon when I was sitting on the porch, I picked up all kinds of aromas I’ve never smelled before. I’m thinking I might be able to track Garrett if I start from the last place he was known to be—my house,” Jen said, feeling a surge of confidence. She had a new feeling of empowerment. She liked taking action instead of waiting for something to happen.

165

Sally Painter

Bel nodded. “I say we try it. If we’ve not found Garrett by the time our troops arrive later tonight then we’ll enlist them in the search.” “Until then, we have your men,” Jen said to Starn. “Whoa, Rescue Babe, my men won’t work with the Clisneach and the Clisneach won’t work with them.” Starn shook his head. “They don’t have to. I need your men to find Eric Dolby,” Jen said. “The kid who killed the teenage girl?” “Eric didn’t do it.” Jen said. “Demons killed her. Eric and Marcy work for me. They’re good kids. Were… Can you help?” “Yeah, sure, I’ll put them on it right away.” He turned to Bel. “You need to instruct Yates to rendezvous with you at my club, not here. Demons are going to be swarming all over this place in a few. The moon is rising.” Bel nodded and flipped open her cell phone, stepping away from them to talk with Yates. “Now that you know how to take action, I guess you’re going to do okay as the Reconciler, sweetcakes.” “If I knew what it really means.” “If the Legend is true, and I’m beginning to think it might be, then you’ll know what to do when the time comes.” Starn winked. “I talked with Yates,” Bel interrupted. “She’s going to meet us at your club in an hour.” “I’ll round up my crew and we’ll head out to the trailer park and see if I can find the kid.” “No,” Jen said. “He won’t be there. He knows a lot about the swamps. Talks about men he knows who go out there.” “Okay then,” Starn said. “I’ll go with you,” Bel told Jen. Starn frowned at her. “I’ll be at your club in time to meet Yates,” she added. “I’m staying until both of you leave.” He folded his arms over his chest. Jen nodded and picked up her bag, hurrying to the bedroom to slip into a fresh pair of bra and panties, tugging on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Tears welled in her eyes when she thought of Garrett packing the bag for her. Had he spent a lot of time selecting her clothes or had he grabbed the first things he found? Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she donned a pair of sandals and turned to grab her purse when she remembered it was now at the bottom of the swamp. “Let’s go!” Starn’s voice boomed. Carrying her bag, Jen ran back to the kitchen only to find them on the porch waiting for her. 166

Reunited

“I’ll take your bag to my boat,” he said and reached for it. “You’ll have to fly with me,” Bel said and stretched forward, releasing her wings. Jen felt awkward stepping into Bel’s embrace and hesitated, wishing she had the ability to fly on her own. Suddenly, the ground was no longer beneath her feet, but she wasn’t holding on to Bel. She looked around and saw Bel and Starn below her. “Oh my God!” Bel exclaimed, looking up at her from the ground. “How’d you do that, sweetcakes?” Starn chuckled. “I don’t know. I just thought about flying.” Jen’s stomach flip-flopped. She floated higher. Bel caught the wind and rose from the ground, fluttering her wings so she could hover beside Jen. “Just take it easy since we don’t know how you’re flying without wings,” she said. “I think if I just focus on being home, I’ll fly there,” Jen said and no sooner had she spoken the words than she was soaring above the treetops in the direction of her house with Bel flapping her wings to keep up. The night’s humidity clung to her. The sound of crickets and bullfrogs was joined by a new sound—the sound of gargoyle wings slicing the air as Bel flew beside her. Jen watched the scene below as Starn spread golden wings and flew from the house, carrying her bag and another one she assumed belonged to Bel. He swooped over the bay waters just as headlights flashed along the road leading to the house. She counted five SUVs. Street lights spilled over the backyard, bathing it in an eerie light. The vehicles barreled up the driveway and slammed to a stop with an army of figures bursting from them. Some scattered out into the yard while others ran up the porch steps and into the house. Their shouts carried over the water. Jen released a ragged breath. A rush of adrenaline made her shake. What would have happened had they delayed leaving a moment longer? The slamming screen door made her jerk around. Running footfalls pounded across the porch. “We’re safe. They didn’t see us,” Bel spoke as they flew toward town. The wind lashed at her hair, slinging it into her face. Jen’s mind was on Garrett when they entered town. The thought of demons torturing him sent a coldness through her that wrapped tight around her heart. She closed her eyes against the images. Tears filled her eyes and the wind tore them from her, streaking the across her face. What if she was unable to pick up his scent? Then what? He would be doomed to demonic torture for all eternity. She glimpsed her house through the trees and felt relieved. Motioning to Bel, they descended to the backyard between the large oaks and the hedge. Bel retracted her wings and they stood in the dense shadows looking about. “No one’s here,” Jen whispered, glancing at her neighbors’ houses lit up from inside. “Come on,” she said and started across the yard. The patio light flashed on.

167

Sally Painter

“Motion detector,” she explained and hurried over to the back door. She held her breath, hoping it was still unlocked. When she turned the knob, it opened. Jen glanced over her shoulder at Bel and was startled by the woman’s anxious thoughts. They slammed into her and for the first time Jen realized how upset Bel was over Garrett’s disappearance. An appreciation for Bel’s outward composure sparked in her. She opened the door and quickly turned on the lights. The house was quiet with only the ceiling vents popping as the air conditioner kicked on and cold air blasted overhead. She stepped across the kitchen and paused, recalling the morning scene when the two rogues had cornered her. She hugged herself. “Do you sense him?” Bel asked, still standing in the doorway. Jen shook her head. “Just close your eyes and try to clear your mind. You might be able to pick up images or even voices.” Jen nodded and did as Bel instructed. Faint voices echoed from the foyer and she took a step forward, concentrating on them. A scene opened in front of her as though the world had turned into a pool of water. The surface rippled and the same voices echoed from its depth. Then the water stilled and she felt as though she was standing in the middle of the foyer. Her heart throbbed when she saw Garrett walk down the staircase carrying her duffel bag. His dark hair fell over his shoulders and Jen reached out to touch him, but he paused on the last step, not seeing her. Anger filled his eyes and the tune he was whistling faded from his lips. He said something but she couldn’t understand the garbled words. Jen turned around to see who he was talking to and came face to face with the most striking woman she’d ever seen. The woman’s complexion seemed to blush darker in an angry hue. Her hair was raven black like Garrett’s. Dressed in a tight-fitting tube top and black leather pants so tight they appeared to be leggings that revealed small, rounded hips and slender legs. The woman stood with her fists on her hips. She said something to Garrett. The tone of her voice was strained. Garrett responded, seeming equally upset. He stepped off the staircase and dropped the luggage onto the floor, looking past the woman. Jen followed his stare. “Jackson,” Jen wheezed. Another gargoyle stood behind him. “Red.” “No!” Jen reached out, unable to stop the attack. She watched as they subdued Garrett and the woman kissed him. Rage slashed through Jen. And then the woman retrieved a gold chain with some kind of medallion suspended from it and placed it around Garrett’s neck. “Garrett,” she cried out and tried to remove the medallion but it turned him to stone.

168

Reunited

“Jen?” Bel’s voice echoed through the haze. Jen struggled to come out of the dense fog as though awakening from a dream to find Bel gripping her by the forearms. “What did you see?” “I’m okay. I saw it all.” She pulled free. “He was ambushed,” she sobbed. “Some woman. A rogue. Jackson and Red were with her. He never had a chance.” “W-What did they do to him?” Bel’s voice trembled and Jen looked up at her, seeing her fear reflected in Bel’s eyes. “She had some kind of a medallion.” “Medallion?” “It looked like an antique, all these scrolls and figurines carved on it. It was gold and suspended from a heavy gold chain. She put it around his neck and…he turned to stone.” She swiped the tears from her eyes. “A woman?” Bel asked and moved closer. “Calm down and tell me what she looked like.” “Ah…” Jen sniffed, trying to stop the tears. “Your height. My build only taller, long legs. She wore a tube top and a pair of black leather pants, really tight fitting.” “Her hair. What color?” “Black like Garrett’s, straight and shiny. Long. And her complexion was olive but dark.” “That’s impossible,” Bel’s eyes widened. “You have to be wrong.” “That’s what I saw. Who is she, Bel?” “The woman you described is Yates.” “Oh no. How could she betray him?” “Time of day? Was it day or night?” “Day. Late afternoon.” “That lying bitch! Dammit! I’ve spoken with Yates several times today.” Bel’s breathing became labored. “She’s gone rogue.” “How can you be certain she’s a rogue? Because she’s out in the day? I mean, can’t she put a blanket over herself like Starn said he’d do to move you?” “That doesn’t really work. I’d have lasted maybe ten seconds. It wouldn’t block the sun for long.” “I don’t understand.” “In natural shade, we’re protected a little longer. A house is dense enough to protect us. Look. Trust me. She’s a rogue if she’s out in the day and hanging with Red and Jackson.” “Garrett never had a chance,” Jen sniffed.

169

Sally Painter

“You have to pick up his scent, Jen. It’s our only hope of finding him. I have to call Holtz. He’s next in command. There’s no telling what Yates told the troops or where they really are.” Bel pulled her phone from her pocket. “Why would Yates do this to Garrett?” Jen asked. “I don’t know. You said she was with Red and Jackson?” Bel punched in a number. She nodded. “Then Yates has to be working for Tracker. We’re so screwed.” Bel put the phone to her ear and turned from Jen. “Holtz? We have a problem…hang on.” She turned back to Jen. “I’m going to go in the kitchen and talk to Holtz. Try to pick up Garrett’s scent.” Jen nodded. Bel’s voice faded as she moved into the other room. She drew in a deep breath through her nostrils and concentrated on Garrett, recalling how he smelled of ocean and earth and that special aroma so deliciously all his. She tilted her head and sniffed. A faint scent teased her and she took a step forward. It was elusive. She closed her eyes and sniffed again. “Yates sent our troops to Georgia. It’ll take them until late tonight to fly here. Did you pick up Garrett’s scent?” Bel asked. Jen held her hand out for Bel to be quiet. She sniffed. There. It was him. “I have him.” Jen opened her eyes. “Where?” Bel asked. “In the foyer and then,” she said, turning toward the kitchen, “through the back door. Come on.” She pivoted and ran out of the house, pausing on the patio, trying to catch a whiff of him again. Bel closed the door and stood expectantly beside her. “Nothing,” she sighed, shoulders slumping forward. “Try again, step around the side of the house. He’d have been stoned, so they had to carry him to a vehicle.” Jen nodded and moved around the side of the house to stand in the driveway. A few short sniffs and the aroma of steaks grilling, flowers releasing their heated perfume and a hint of rain filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes, pushing her awareness past the obvious scents, searching for his. Her eyelids flew open. There it was again! She moved in its direction. She had him yet didn’t announce it to Bel, afraid if she spoke, it would break her concentration. She ran down the street with Bel’s footfalls clicking behind her until she came to an intersection and paused. “Jen!” Bel grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the path of oncoming traffic. She stumbled onto the sidewalk slamming into Bel. “I lost him.” “Well you won’t be able to find him if you’re dead,” Bel panted, releasing her arm.

170

Reunited

Jen closed her eyes and once more hunted for Garrett’s scent. She lifted her head, keenly aware of the various air currents drifting past her. It was like streams of smells curling through the wind. “There,” she cried out and started across the busy intersection again. “Whoa there, babe.” Bel’s hand latched onto her arm. “We have to find a safer way to do this.” “Well, I no longer have a car, Bel, so what do you suggest?” “Ah…wait for the light to change before crossing the street?” Jen tossed what she hoped was a sarcastic look. The light changed and she ran across the street. They were now on Main and headed in the direction of the cemetery. Jen stopped. “What is it? Did you lose the scent?” “No,” she said. “Why aren’t we moving then?” “Give me a sec,” Jen said, steeling herself to walk past the one place on earth she’d never wanted to return to at night. She felt as though her feet sank into the concrete sidewalk. The new strength inside her stirred and the lead weight in her feet released. She took a ragged breath and walked past the cemetery gate. The voices from the past no longer whispered at her and the shadows moving back and forth in the breeze didn’t set her heart pumping harder. Even the familiar sick feeling knotting in her stomach was gone. A part of her couldn’t believe she was actually walking past this place which had once been the focus of her entire life. This cemetery had held her hostage and now she was free. Her nostrils filled with Garrett’s scent. “Garrett.” His name rushed from her. “Do you have his scent again?” Bel asked. “If Yates took him where I think she did, we need to hurry,” she said and turned the corner, running down the street that led out of town. “We need to find someplace where we won’t be seen.” “What do you mean?” Bel asked trying to catch up with her. “We need to fly.”

171

Sally Painter

Chapter Sixteen Garrett flexed his muscles against the stone encasement. Once he was free he’d destroy Yates without hesitation. She was now the enemy. “I can feel the hate, baby,” she purred and moved over to him, pressing her lips against his stone ones. “Until you calm down, I can’t take the medallion off you and believe me, I so want to.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Get off me,” he rasped, flexing his muscles, but the stone didn’t give like it had that morning. This was different. He was imprisoned by the magic imbued into medallion. “I think you’ll change your attitude once you have a little taste. Believe me, you’ll be pretty satisfied. Your hard body slipping into my hard body,” she moaned. “Once we mate, you’ll realize how right I am for you.” “That’s the virus talking, Yates.” “But you always said rogues used the virus as an excuse, Commander. What happened to change your mind?” “I’ve known you for hundreds of years. You’d never talk like that to me if you weren’t infected,” he growled. “Oh baby, I wanted to. I can’t tell you how many times I came close to telling you, Garrett. I’ve dreamed of riding you until you roar. But your obsession with the Reconciler always interfered.” “It was our mission. You should be glad I found her.” “Glad?” She stiffened and pushed from him. Hatred pierced her eyes. “What makes you think I’m glad you’re fucking her?” she rasped. “Why would I ever be glad about that?” Garrett clenched his jaw, realizing Jen’s greatest enemy was no longer Tracker. “And how dare you risk everything by taking her for yourself. How can you believe that’s not the act of a mutant? The Garrett Dermonté I know would never take a human for his lover, much less the Reconciler. I guess being in denial isn’t reserved just for the humans.” “If you release me now, Yates, I’ll let you go and report to the Sgaith Council that you’re just one of the virus’ latest victims. Once the war is won you’ll be healed.” Garrett hated letting her go to wreak havoc elsewhere, but it was the only bargaining chip he had to win his freedom. “You think she’ll heal me now?” She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh baby, you’re so naïve.” She sauntered over to the partially crumbled wall and perched on top 172

Reunited

of it. She sat peering down at him from hooded eyes. Moonlight shone around her. She looked like she did when getting ready to attack a demon. “Come on, Yates, you’re my lieutenant. We’ve been through a lot together. I’ll do whatever I can to see that you have plenty of time to escape.” “You amaze me. Who do you think ordered me to bring you to this burned-out church in this God-awful swamp? Demons? Tracker?” She shook her head and jumped from the wall to stand in front of him with dark wings fully expanded. “I told you the Sgaith Council ordered me to retrieve you. I may be a mutant but I don’t do the bidding of demons.” She paced in front of him. “But Jackson said…” “I’d never take demon money.” “You’re playing a dangerous game, Yates. No one ever wins playing both ends against the middle. The Sgaith Council will have me exiled. I’ll be suspended in time between the seven heavens. What good will I be to you then?” “Yeah, I know. I tell you, originally, I was just going to blow off the high and mighty Council, but when I discovered you’d mutated, or rather you were screwing the Reconciler, I decided you needed a lesson.” “Well congratulations. The Council’s punishment should definitely satisfy your objective.” “I promise you, Garrett, you’re mine. All mine. Willing or not. Either way I’ll have you as my mate. And that bitch Reconciler won’t interfere with my plans ever again because you’d never go against a mate.” “Well, you’re right and that’s why I won’t go against her.” Dawning understanding moved over Yates’ face, hardening her sharp features. “You bastard. You mated with her?” The growl was deep and feline as she arched her back and leaped at him, clawing and scratching at the stone. “The Sgaith Council is here,” Jackson called from outside the ruins and disappeared. Garrett fought to free himself of the stone before the five gargoyles entered the church. “Mate or not, I can’t wait to take your cock in my mouth, lover, and teach you who is in control,” Yates panted and climbed off him. Three females and two males dressed in black leather entered the burned-out church and stopped in front of him with their wings fully expanded. He snorted, unimpressed by their preening, and at that moment felt only anger over having been brought before them. A burst of energy shot from the group toward him. Garrett gritted his teeth and resisted the pressure of their unified probe, refusing to open his mind to them. The energy receded and the Council relented.

173

Sally Painter

“It’s with great regret we find ourselves here this evening,” one of the females spoke. Her gargoyle features were those of a hawk. Garrett glared at her and she averted her stare. “Indeed.” The tallest of the five who resembled a bear in facial appearance, shook his head. “I find this to be the most unsettling event ever. Especially when I learned from Lieutenant Yates you had mutated. At least that explains your erratic behavior and why you blocked our probe, Dermonté.” “Indeed,” the other gargoyles said in unison, shaking their heads. “What do you have to say for yourself?” The hawk known only as the Chancellor asked. “It’s difficult to speak since I’m stoned, my Chancellor,” Garrett grunted. “But if you want the truth, I wouldn’t depend on Yates to speak it since she has mutated.” There were several gasps and all stares settled on Yates. The female warrior straightened her spine. “He’s going to say anything. You know how mutants are.” “Hmm,” came the hawk’s response. “She’s made a deal with the demons. She can’t be trusted. Just check her tattoo if you doubt my words,” Garrett said. “Oh please, allow me to save some time,” Yates said, lifting her arm so the golden tattoo glimmered in the moonlight. “It’s a trick. She has access to magic. Look at me. I’m held here by a magical medallion. She’s used a spell or something to mask the true color of her seal,” Garrett said, realizing how desperate he sounded. “We’ll deal with Lieutenant Yates later. She’s scheduled for a regular virus check next week. If she has mutated then she’ll be relieved of her duties at that time.” Garrett bristled at the way they brushed his accusation aside. “Her status is not the question here.” He had no other tactic and wouldn’t hide behind Jen’s charisma to explain his actions. “We learned about the Reconciler being identified not from the one who found her, but from Red, a rogue garg. Why is that?” “Because I’ve not had time. There have been numerous demonic attacks and as her Protector, I’ve been defending her against them while searching for a safe haven.” “And did you find this haven?” “I did.” “Where might that be?” came the next question. “I have no intention of telling you.” “You defy the Sgaith Council?” Her indignant tone was to be expected. It wasn’t every day he defied the Council. 174

Reunited

“I regret it appears that way. I’m merely fulfilling my obligation as her Protector. It’s increasingly difficult to judge who is loyal and who is mutant these days.” He glared at Yates. “The virus seems to be spreading through the Clisneach at a faster rate, so I approach everyone as a potential enemy.” “While your tactic is admirable, Commander, it’s obviously flawed since clearly we’re the Sgaith Council.” “I beg to differ, Chancellor, and until the war is over, I won’t reveal her whereabouts.” “And this has nothing to do with the fact you broke the mating mandate and have taken her as your mate?” “I’ve not mated with her, your honor.” “Indeed?” Her eyebrow lifted. “Liar! He just told me she was his mate,” Yates interrupted. “Lieutenant Yates, kindly wait until you’re called upon.” “Yes, ma’am.” Yates braced her feet apart and locked her hands behind her back. “Go ahead. You were saying,” the hawk council member spoke. Garrett looked into her eyes and met the reluctance he’d hoped to find in all of their eyes. She just needed a reason to spare him. “I have no excuse for my behavior. All I can say is I’ve not been myself since meeting her.” “That’s very obvious,” the bear gargoyle snorted. “Are you denying having sexual relations with her?” “No,” he said. The air hung heavy with their sharp intake of breaths. Yates growled but didn’t speak. “Then there’s no point to this discussion,” the male gargoyle clipped with his sharp canine teeth bared. “You know to take a human lover carries the penalty of exile?” the hawk gargoyle asked, shoving her long white hair over one shoulder. “I understand,” he said. “And yet you offer no defense?” she asked. “I won’t apologize for loving Jen Ormand but I can offer a possible solution.” “Please do.” “We’re living in very uncertain times and the moon will be full tomorrow night. Our intel revealed the demons will make their move then. Please allow me to continue my duties and once the battle is over and our enemy defeated, I shall turn myself in to the Sgaith Council and accept whatever punishment you deem just.”

175

Sally Painter

The gargoyles looked at each other and he knew they shared a closed telepathic link as they bowed their heads and a couple of them nodded. “We would expect no less from a soldier of honor, Dermonté,” the hawk gargoyle nodded. “We must discuss further.” She motioned to the others and they lifted their wings, disappearing into the treetops overhead. They perched on the limbs to telepathically debate his fate. Garrett glared at Yates. She moved to pace in front of him, chewing on her lower lip. She glanced past the ruins to Jackson who now stood guard in front of what had been a double door entrance. He shook his head and she turned back to Garrett. Was the virus responsible for transforming her into this obsessed being or was it jealousy? Would he react in such extreme behavior if Jen chose someone over him? Jealousy slashed through him like a panther charging its kill. He was taken aback by these new emotions so alien to him. The Sgaith Council descended from the trees and the troubling thoughts faded when they landed in front of him. Some drew in their wings against their backs while others stood with them arched behind them. The Chancellor stepped forward. “Commander Dermonté, you’ve always been a gallant warrior. We find it to be your most redeeming quality. Since the fates of our species and humanity hang in the balance, we’ve decided you shall have free rein until the demons and Tracker,” she choked on the name of the former gargoyle hero, “are defeated. After the battle is won, you’ll report directly to us and only then shall we determine your fate. You must defeat our enemy.” An angry glare shifted over the Chancellor’s face when she pivoted to face Yates. “Remove the medallion from his neck,” she ordered. Watching the way the Chancellor acted toward Yates, Garrett knew he had an ally in the Sgaith Council leader. “You can’t be blind to his indiscretions. He’s charming but his promises to defeat the demons are false!” Yates yelled. “Look at his Clisneach seal. It’s no longer gold.” “Lieutenant Yates, remember your place,” the Chancellor spoke in a low voice, straightening her shoulders, obviously offended by the woman’s outburst. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s just we’re in such stressful times.” “And we need our best warrior to lead our troops. We were immediately aware of Commander Dermonté’s seal. It’s obvious even in stone that it’s no longer Clisneach gold. The Sgaith Council has knowledge not privy to other gargoyles. We expected to see a blue seal on your arm, Commander, as confirmation you had in fact found the Reconciler. The blue seal is the sign of her Protector.” “W-What?” Yates stared wide-eyed at him. Relief washed over Garrett. If there was one sign then there may be others. He wasn’t infected. He’d merely transformed as Jen’s Protector.

176

Reunited

“We’re not in the habit of explaining ourselves,” she turned to Garrett, “but hope this knowledge eases any concerns you had.” “I think you should explain yourselves more often.” The voice drew their attention to the torn-out doorway. Red stood inside the ruins with several others, only they weren’t gargoyles. Their eyes glowed red. Garrett yelled, straining against the stone needing to protect the Sgaith Council. “Remove the medallion, Yates!” he shouted. The gargoyle council expanded their wings and prepared for flight, but a pack of demons barged over the broken walls behind them like a mass of rodents. It was a blur of flapping wings and demons as the gargoyles tried to fly away, but were overpowered. The demons moved in a massive wave. Garrett yelled inside his prison while Yates stood with arms akimbo, laughing as the Sgaith Council was massacred. Growling and thrashing under the savagery of the demons, their screeches echoed through the swamp. Swords slashed through the air and struck the gargoyles. The anguished cries made Garrett wild with rage. Forced to watch his leaders torn apart, he yelled for Yates to help them. She turned to him. Excitement and satisfaction moved over her face. “Why should I help them when I’m the one who arranged all this?” A lopsided smile twisted her lips. His ears rang with the howls of the dying gargoyles followed by the unmistakable sound of a demonic battle, the ripping of wings from flesh. The hellions held the torn wings, dripping with blood, above their heads and danced around in victory. Bile rushed to his mouth. The Council was dead. Their wings were now the ultimate battle token for the demons. He roared. Their snarls became deafening when they turned to feast upon the dismembered bodies, dipping their ugly heads to lap up the blood gushing from jagged wounds. “Traitor!” Garrett seethed, longing to rip the wings from Yates. She flashed an angry glare at him though a satisfied smile separated her lips. His fingers itched to close around her throat. The image was interrupted by the gnashing sound of bones crunching beneath powerful jaws as the demons devoured the carcasses of the Sgaith Council. His gut knotted. Yates leaned on him and ran her hand over his chest. “You’ll rebel and resist, but in the end, you’re going to do exactly as I want, baby. And the first thing I want is to fuck you. Long and hard. Oh sure, I know you think that won’t be possible, but this miraculous medallion isn’t the only demon magic I have. In the end, you’ll be mine.” “Then you don’t know him very well,” a female voice fell from overhead.

177

Sally Painter

“Jen!” Garrett cried out. What was she doing here? Fear for her safety made him roar and struggle to be free of the stone. Yates would destroy her the same way the demons had the Sgaith Council. “Get out of here. Run.” Yates released a bloodcurdling scream and raised her wings in an attempt at flight but Jen descended from the trees with her hands held out toward Yates. Was Jen levitating or flying? How did she do that? “I’m going to kill you, bitch!” Yates screamed and flapped her wings but she couldn’t lift from the ground. Jen moved her hands and Yates fell backward. He watched her descend to the ground and stand staring down at Yates who was struggling again to rise. Jen held her hands out and Yates fell back once more. “Dammit, you little cunt.” Yates thrashed in the dirt, unable to stand. “Are you okay?” Jen glanced at Garrett. Bel landed behind Jen. “Bel, help get Jen out of here,” he said. His sister pivoted, ready to take on the demons. Like a pack of wild animals caught up in the frenzy of the kill, the demons hadn’t noticed their intrusion. “W-What have they done?” Bel’s voice trembled. The demons froze in their butchery as though trying to understand what had interrupted them. “Bel,” Jen shouted. “I’ve got her.” Bel turned and slammed her foot down onto the Yates shoulder. Jen turned to face the demons. Hunched over, the creatures rose from the massacre, snarling, blood smeared over their faces. Garrett shoved against the stone, needing to destroy the beasts before they ravaged his beloved. Jen held her arms out to her sides. “What are you doing? Get of here,” he shouted but the two women ignored him. The demons stood mesmerized as Jen opened her arms wide and turned her palms facing each other. She jerked her arms together in front of her so her hands clapped in a loud slap. The demons screamed when a powerful wave of energy lifted them from the ground and slammed them into each other with such force, Garrett heard their bones snapping under the impact. Broken bodies fell limp onto the dirt floor. Many liquefied and flamed, engulfing those remaining alive. Their screams burst into the night until all that remained was the putrid smell of death as the fire rose higher and then extinguished. The wind carried the dark smoke out of the building. “I’m going to slit your throat and Garrett’s going to watch you die,” Yates yelled, managing to take Bel off guard and shove her beyond the skeletal remains of the church. Bel flapped her wings, trying to avoid a collision with a huge oak tree, but slammed into the trunk. She slumped to the ground, moaning.

178

Reunited

Yates grabbed Jen’s arm. “Bel, help Jen,” Garrett roared. Bel jumped up and flew back into the church, latching onto one of Yates’ wings. Jen jerked free of the rogue’s hold and Yates turned on Bel. The two female gargoyles twirled around in a flurry of wings and arms. “Move,” Jen yelled and Bel released Yates’ wing. Once more Jen entrapped the rogue female in a force field. She then turned back to Garrett. “Are you okay?” she asked and backed across the expanse to him while keeping one hand faced out toward Yates. Bel repositioned herself over Yates. This time she reached down and grabbed Yates by the wing, lifting the rogue to her feet. “You might as well kill me now. I won’t let him go,” Yates spat. Jen reached up and grasped the medallion around Garrett’s neck and lifted the chain over his head. The stone cracked, several breaks running down his arms and over his chest. When he flexed his muscles, he was at last able to burst free of the rock encasement. Before it was all gone, he reached out and grabbed Jen. Dust clung to him as he enveloped her in an embrace. “Oh baby, I was so worried about you.” He touched his lips to hers, needing to reassure himself she was unharmed. Jen stroked his face. “No!” Yates screamed. The enraged gargoyle lunged for Jen, throwing Bel off balance. Garrett heard the screech and turned to shield Jen with his body, but she lifted her arm and slammed her fist into Yates’ face, sending the gargoyle careening backward onto the ground. Bel seized Yates by the arms and pinned them to her wings. Yates screamed and thrashed underneath the hold. “That’s quite enough,” Bel seethed and pushed Yates to the ground, but she was on her feet again and struggling away from Bel to run toward Jen. Bel grabbed her by the wings and Yates stumbled to her knees in a loud cry. “I won’t give you up, Garrett,” Yates wheezed. “You never had him,” Bel sneered. “Can’t you see he loves Jen?” Yates howled and clawed the air, trying to strike Jen. “Stand aside, Bel,” Jen said and once more captured Yates in a force field. She bent over the rogue. “You can’t have him,” Yates cried. “I already have him and after tonight, he’ll be my mate,” Jen said and glanced back at Garrett.

179

Sally Painter

He could see the change in her eyes. While he’d been in captivity, Jen had discovered more than just her powers. She had realized her destined role as the Reconciler. Pride swelled in his chest. She moved like a woman of confidence. He recalled the way she’d come out of nowhere and overpowered Yates. “What kind of a future does he have with a dead woman?” “Shut the fuck up!” Bel hissed and slammed her foot into Yates’ back, sending her facedown into the dirt. Her agonized wail sliced through the quietness that had settled over the swamp. “Let her sit up,” Jen said and Bel lifted her foot. Seething through clenched teeth, Yates struggled to her knees. “I think this belongs to you,” Jen said and slipped the chain over the gargoyle’s head. Before Yates could react the medallion fell around her neck. “No! He’s mine. When I get free, I’m coming for you, Reconciler,” she screamed. Jen stepped back and nodded for Bel to release her. Yates staggered to her feet and clutched at the medallion with a look of horror etching over her face until the enraged expression was set to stone. Jen watched the stone spread down Yates’ arms and across her chest, moving quickly as it encased her entire body. Garrett looked away. This was not his lieutenant. That warrior had died the moment the virus claimed Yates. “This is a befitting place for you to rest for all eternity,” Bel said and moved past Yates, side-stepping the remains of the destroyed demons. “You can look upon the evil you waged this night for the rest of eternity.” Garrett turned his back to Yates and drew Jen into his embrace, seeking her lips. He covered her mouth with his and met her eager response. Her soft lips made him want more. He needed so much more. He longed to kiss her silky skin all the way to her toes and take his time making her squirm. He couldn’t wait to take her to their private world where mutant gargoyles and demons couldn’t follow. Yates howled but Garrett blocked her cries from his mind. Jen was safe. He was free. For that brief moment, just being back with his beloved was paradise. He broke from the kiss, cradling her face in his hands. It had been an uncertain evening. He’d thought his eternity would be spent in stone with Yates bringing him out whenever she wanted and attempting to force him into submission. He touched his lips to hers again, this time parting them with his tongue to plunge it deep inside her mouth and regain what he’d feared lost to him forever. God, he’d never tasted anything so succulent. He pressed harder, seeking and finding the passion. If only he could keep Jen by his side forever. He broke from the kiss to stare down at her. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he panted. “I was so alone without you,” she whispered.

180

Reunited

“Who were they?” Bel interrupted and nodded to the dismembered bodies and bloodied wings. The joy fell from him, replaced by the bitter memory of the massacre. “Garrett?” Bel asked, narrowing her stare on him. “Who were these gargoyles?” “The…Sgaith Council,” he said between clenched teeth. “No!” Bel wailed and turned on Yates. “You vile creature. Being encased in stone is not enough. You should be dismembered and allowed to revive and dismembered again and again for all eternity.” Bel turned away. “Oh my God, Garrett. Yates betrayed the Council?” Jen gasped as if realizing the depth of Yates’ insanity. “Yates is a rogue. Maybe now you understand what this virus can do,” he said to Jen, but he looked at Bel who just shook her head. “What were they doing here?” Bel asked. “Red told them about Jen and that I had gone rouge, so the Council ordered Yates to bring me before them.” He squeezed Jen. “Instead of exiling me for breaking the Mating Mandate, they chose to commute my sentence until after tomorrow night.” “Tomorrow night?” Jen asked. “And so with the Council out of the way what did Yates have planned for you, Brother?” Bel looked over at the statue. Garrett didn’t answer. “What were her plans for you, Garrett?” Jen’s voice trembled. ”The demons did her dirty work and Yates thought she’d won. She was going to keep Garrett as her personal sex slave for all eternity,” Bel said. “Something like that,” he winced. “But you aren’t a mutant. Surely the Council knew this,” Jen stated matter-of-factly, seeming to ignore Bel’s comment about Yates’ plans. He lifted an eyebrow. “I can now sense mutants. It’s a new ability.” She shrugged. “You’re right. The Sgaith Council knew I wasn’t a mutant. They said they’d expected my seal to be blue as an outward sign I’d found the Reconciler and was serving as your Protector.” “Are you saying all these changes in you are a result of being Jen’s Protector?” Bel asked, moving closer to examine his seal. “Think about it. It makes perfect sense I’d need the ability to be in sunlight while retaining all of my night skills,” he said. “I’m not a rogue, Bel.” His sister pursed her lips together and turned from him, attempting to hide the tears springing to her eyes.

181

Sally Painter

Garrett was filled with a sudden sense of urgency. “We must leave. Red and Jackson were here earlier but it looks like they took off when the demons attacked. No doubt they’ll be reporting back to Tracker and bringing reinforcements.” “Agreed.” Bel lifted her wings to catch the breeze. “Let’s go then.” She rose from the ground and flew past the jagged roofline. Garrett leaned forward and released his wings. He stood in front of Jen and drew his arms around her. “It appears you also discovered the ability to fly while I was away,” he said. “What else can you do?” “You’ll be amazed,” she said in a deep sultry drawl that made him hard. She eased from his embrace. “Why don’t you follow me and I’ll show you?” She began to lift from the ground. With his wings fluttering in the wind, Garrett watched her rise higher. “Now that’s arousing,” he said, lifting from the ruins to fly after her.

182

Reunited

Chapter Seventeen “I rented a houseboat at the marina.” Garrett squeezed her hand. “What will you do with Yates?” Jen asked, willing herself to glide away from the swamps toward the shoreline. “I’ll send my men out to collect her.” “Will you leave her trapped in the stone forever?” Jen asked and he frowned. “We’ll deal with her—later.” She could hear his thoughts and flinched from the memory of the scene they’d left behind. The demons had been brutal in their massacre of the Sgaith Council. She now knew firsthand what her enemy was like and it terrified her. Bel flew in front of them. Her golden wings sent gusts of wind in her wake. Unlike Garrett, his sister flew with her head down and arms by her sides. Jen looked back to him, marveling at the elegant beauty of the brother and sister. The water below was dark and rolled under the whipping wind, tipping its waves with white caps. Moonlight shone over Garrett, highlighting his wings, and she suddenly missed being cradled in his arms while flying. At this perspective, she gained a greater appreciation for his power. Her heart swelled with love. Contemplating his wings, Jen suddenly realized that they’d changed. “Your wings are black again,” she gasped. He glanced over his shoulder to see. “Just another mystery.” He squeezed her hand. She was beginning to accept that some things had no explanations, at least for now, and glanced ahead. The wind lashed her hair and she caught it with her free hand. As impossible as it seemed she knew they’d survive the impending war, somehow. Slowly she turned her attention to Bel, watching golden wings rise and fall. She stiffened at the emotions tumbling in Bel’s wake. Distress slammed into her followed by Bel’s memories. Ancient. A pain so great it had never healed. Sadness gripped Jen and as though sensing her regard, Bel glanced back and smiled. “Seems you’ve become friends,” Garrett said, nodding toward his sister. “I hope so.” Garrett leaned over to give her a peck on the lips. He seemed to know so much about her abilities, yet was surprised she could fly. A new sense of power was growing inside her. The power of the Reconciler and with it came a sense of self and destiny. She no longer needed anyone to protect her. She was now capable of protecting others.

183

Sally Painter

“It’s true. You no longer need a Protector. You rescued me tonight,” he said and lifted her hand to his lips. Her skin tingled under the tender kiss and she longed to show him just how much she’d missed him. She’d led Bel to Garrett and she’d freed him. But there was more. For the first time in her life. “For the first time in my life, I feel I belong, Garrett.” “Oh, you definitely belong, love,” he smiled. She had discovered her place in life and it felt so perfect. She couldn’t wait to tell Garrett everything she was feeling. He motioned toward the jagged shoreline, illuminated by what appeared to be thousands of boats, all shining with lights. Above the docks was Marina Row. A lively loud place with over thirty individual marinas and nearly a hundred restaurants and clubs. “Where can we land?” she asked, knowing they couldn’t just drop down in the midst of a crowded harbor. “See that houseboat?” He pointed to the large blue and white boat. She nodded. “That’s Starn’s.” “How do you know?” “On the roof. See? It’s the seal of the Clisneach Guard. The gargoyle army,” he said. All kinds of emotions bombarded her from the energy tied to the houseboat. Starn’s energy. “Do you see it?” “Starn is no longer in the Clisneach Guard,” she said, recalling Starn’s need for revenge against the Clisneach. “No,” was all he said. “He must feel he’s still part of the Clisneach to have the emblem on his boat.” “Who knows what he feels.” “I do. He’s angry and hurt. If you were ever friends, you should try to reconcile your differences.” “Yeah, that would have worked real well with Yates.” Garrett’s expression dropped and the look in his eyes changed. “Yates is insane. Starn is different,” she said. “Our houseboat is over there.” He pointed to a red and white one several yards away in a different dock. The slips were bigger and so were the boats. “Demons don’t venture down here. You’ll be safe.” “If that’s true then why did you choose to live in a house on the bay instead of here?”

184

Reunited

“I’ve never had to worry about demons coming after me, Jen. They typically worry about me coming after them.” She nodded, feeling foolish. Of course the demons weren’t after Garrett. They were after her. She wondered why Starn had chosen to live on the water and immediately knew the answer. The virus had made him vulnerable to demons. “You’re right, the demons are no longer afraid of Starn or his men,” Garrett said. Jen blushed and reminded herself to block those thoughts she didn’t want him to hear. “Too many mutant gargs now work with demons and those who refuse are often targeted for surprise attacks. Killing a gargoyle has become a sport because of the mutation—nothing can kill them, but it’s also weakened them. So for sport, the demons torture and kill them over and over again. It’s every demon’s wet dream. That’s why Starn and his troops live at the marina.” “I don’t blame them,” she said looking at him. In the moonlight his face took on a different cast, reminding Jen of a dark hero in an ancient fable. She couldn’t recall the story and her attention quickly shifted to the dockside, brilliant with lights. Loud music blasted from the clubs and the crowded parking lots spilled out into the two-lane road that ran the three-mile length of the docks. People were everywhere, seeming to burst from overcrowded clubs and restaurants, gathering on porches, decks and even in the parking lots. In addition, private parties were in full swing on boat decks and the piers were nearly as crowded as Marina Row. It all clashed in the night, echoing over the water to greet them. Bel veered sharply away from the marinas and they followed her toward a dark grove of pines a few yards from the cul-de-sac marking the end of Marina Row. Garrett drifted soundlessly to the ground and Jen willed herself to land beside him. He gave her an appreciative smile. It felt strange being back on the ground. Her legs trembled and he wrapped an arm around her waist. The contact inflamed her senses. She was anxious to get on board the houseboat and be alone with him. He wore only a pair of khaki pants and Jen reached out to let her hands glide over his muscled arms. She flattened her palms and smoothed his flesh as she stroked his shoulders and then once more dipped down his chest. Her pulse pounded in her ears. He felt so good beneath her fingertips. All she wanted was to lie down on the pine needle floor and make love to him. If Bel wasn’t standing a few feet away, she would have ravished Garrett. “Let’s go. We aren’t safe until we’re on the water,” Bel said and turned for the road. Lights twinkled between the thin tall trunks. The heavy pine scent filled her nostrils, but tonight the familiar scent didn’t calm her. Jen started to follow but Garrett leaned over, pressing his lips to her ear. “I’m going to ravish you,” he whispered.

185

Sally Painter

Tingles of excitement traveled down her back. He’d heard her thoughts. What else had he heard? Did he know how much she loved touching him? She wanted Garrett to know everything she felt for him. Her attention jarred from her musings with a sensation they were being watched. She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re safe.” He tightened his arm around her waist. Images of Garrett standing in front of her naked, his cock hard and pulsating, felt more like a premonition than a fantasy thought. When she met his stare a new volley of excitement raced through her. Was she picking up his thoughts? Moonlight fell over his face and accentuated the fine lines where chin and jaw met. The moment was shattered by Yates’ voice droning in her ear, What kind of a future does he have with a dead woman? “What did she mean?” Jen asked, knowing he’d heard her thoughts. “Yates is deranged. I really don’t want to discuss her.” He looked away, yet not before Jen caught the worried look he tried so hard to hide. She realized it was painful for him. He’d served with Yates for hundreds of years. She couldn’t grasp the concept of living so long much less working with someone for centuries. She sensed his feeling of betrayal and wondered how many friends Garrett had lost like Yates…like Starn. They drew closer to the docks. Jen squinted against the sudden brilliance of all the lights. Couples strolled along the maze of piers, some ducking onto boats, others joining a deck party while some paused to stare at the moon glistening over the bay. Garrett walked along the road barefoot and shirtless and she fantasized them being a normal couple out for a summer night stroll. “Are you okay?” He stopped to let her step down onto the dock before him. The feel of his hand enveloping hers reminded Jen how it felt when he cupped her breasts. She swallowed hard as a rush of heat flooded through her. She stepped down onto the dock and he joined her, once more encircling her waist with his arm. One of her breasts rubbed against his chest. She heard the low groan and smiled. They walked through the crowded pier and she was keenly aware of the appreciative looks Garrett received from a nearby group of women. Jen glanced at him to see if he’d noticed, but he seemed lost in thought, oblivious to the beckoning smiles bestowed on him. Long black hair caught in the breeze and lifted from his shoulders. He smiled down at her. “Almost there,” he whispered and planted a kiss on her temple. She nodded, hearing the envious whispers as they passed several more women. She was struck by the contrast of reality and illusion as they made their way through the docks. To those women, Garrett appeared to be a very sexy man on vacation, strolling along the dockside.

186

Reunited

A sudden wave of remorse struck her and Jen looked around, trying to identify the owner of the anguish. Her senses twinged and she glimpsed Starn weaving his way through the crowd. “I was getting worried about you,” Starn said to Bel as he joined them. “Glad to see you’re okay.” Bel nodded but didn’t speak. He turned to Garrett. “My men are stationed all around the docks. Your guys arrived an hour ago,” he said in a low conversational voice. “That’s surprising. I didn’t expect them until much later,” Bel said. “They’re in my club, stewing.” He turned back to Garrett. “You know how the Clisneach hate being in the same space with my kind. Best if you get them settled elsewhere.” “Bel?” Garrett ignored Starn. His sister moved to stand in front of him as though awaiting orders. “Can you take care of the troops? I rented a couple of houseboats in slips 89 and 48 for bunkers. They’re unlocked,” Garrett said. “It’ll be a bit cramped, but come daylight they’ll at least have a safe place to rest up. There’s plenty of floor space. They’ll need food, so send someone out for that. Just use the debit card. For tonight set them up on points every ten feet from our boat.” Bel nodded and started for the club, glancing back at Starn. Jen caught the brief exchange. The awkwardness between Starn and Garrett grew by the second. “Okay then,” Starn said. “Anything you need, food, drink, just call me and I’ll have it delivered to you. How about a couple of seafood platters?” “That would be great,” Jen said, not giving Garrett the opportunity to say no. “Sure thing, sweetcakes,” he grinned and she felt Garrett stiffen beside her. “Oh, and I brought your luggage with me. It’s in my club. I’ll have it delivered to you when I send the dinners. What’s the slip?” “Thank you,” Jen said, noticing how Garrett’s body seemed so rigid. “Slip 350,” Garrett said and turned from Starn without a thank you. Starn shook his head before heading back to the club. “Why can’t you be civil to him?” she asked. “Don’t ask the impossible of me. He destroyed my sister.” “Well, she seems to be holding up pretty good around him.” Jen pursed her lips together. If she was supposed to reconcile the gargoyles then she needed to start with these two. She felt strange as they weaved through the crowded dock. The festive dockside contrasted sharply with the swamps and the gruesome scene she’d witnessed only moments earlier.

187

Sally Painter

They passed a sailboat lit up with strings of tiny lights. Beach music drifted over the dock as guests danced to Ms. Grace. The song transported her to childhood summers and learning to Shag, a popular coastal style of dancing. It was a rite of passage to learn the Shag. The music was as much a part of her culture as the food. The nostalgia shattered when other memories barged in, stealing the moment from her. Memories of demons lurking in the night. She glanced back at the boat, envying the vacationers living in an ignorance she would never know. “Just down this pier,” Garrett spoke above the din and stopped in front of a twostory houseboat. As she stepped onto the deck, Jen noticed the name scripted on the hull, Forever. She glanced up at Garrett and met the smoldering look in his eyes. “Come on.” Soft light glowed from inside while the deck was bathed in moonlight. The streetlights scattered along the docks gave the docks a bluish cast. Without a word, Garrett slid the glass door open and let her step inside the salon first. Rosewood paneling and lush, textured furniture greeted her. On the opposite wall was a large plasma TV suspended over a fireplace. Crisp air fell from the ceiling vents, chilling the humid night still clinging to her. “This is gorgeous,” she said. “It’s our home for the next while.” Garrett closed the sliding glass door and drew the vertical blinds across them. Jen walked through the salon into the dining bar. Beyond was a spacious galley complete with a table and chairs. “I’ve missed you,” Garrett said, coming up behind her. She turned in his arms and nuzzled his hand as he cupped her face. “Your body pressed so close to mine for the past few minutes and not being able touch you the way I wanted was driving me crazy. You’re so beautiful.” He tugged her closer so she could feel his erection beneath his pants. “Garrett.” She felt lightheaded. “Don’t deny me, Jen. I know you want me. I can sense it.” “Of course I want you. But here? What if Starn comes back with our food?” “I don’t give a shit about Starn. All I care about is feeling myself inside you once more. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He unbuckled his pants and reached for the zipper. “Garrett,” she said, placing her hand over his. He froze, staring down at her. A tic pulsed in his clenched jaw as a look of frustration moved over his face. “I just…I…was so scared. I thought I’d never see you again,” she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. His tense muscles relaxed.

188

Reunited

“You saved me,” he whispered and kissed the wet path of tears on her cheeks. “You’ve saved me in so many ways. And I intend to show my appreciation.” Firm lips claimed hers and Jen melted in his embrace. His mouth was spicy hot. She twisted her tongue around his. The rush of excitement flowed from him to her. The sound of a zipper was followed by his pants falling to the floor and he stepped from them. She glided her hands around his waist and dipped down to his buttocks. She molded her hands over the taut and firm flesh. His engorged cock throbbed against her abdomen and twinges streaked to her pussy. Garrett broke from the kiss and whispered in a deep husky voice, “Do you feel that?” He guided her hand to his cock and she closed her fingers around it. “It’s all for you. Only you, Jen.” She licked her lips, wanting to take him into her mouth and flick her tongue over the tip. His thoughts became her thoughts. Lowering his head to nuzzle her neck, Garrett pressed moist lips against her skin. The touch was tender but grew into an urgent sucking and her body responded. Hot juices rushed between her legs and drenched her thighs. Jen stroked the length of his shaft. He felt hot and silky-smooth and when she palmed the tip of his cock he released a throaty groan. His reaction incited her. Knowing her touch made him excited unleashed a sense of feminine power in her. Beads of creamy liquid seeped from the pink slit in his cock and the warm pre-cum smeared a path over her fingers under her kneading strokes. “I want you naked, baby,” he said and reached down to pull the blouse over her head. Jen unzipped her shorts. She burned with anticipation. Standing naked in front of him, she held her breath, waiting for his touch. Sensitive skin tingled with his nearness and still he didn’t touch her. Lifting her hand, she smoothed his juices over his hard, muscled abdomen. He groaned and she continued to massage up his torso. He leaned over to kiss her. She touched her tongue to her lips and closed her eyes, waiting, yet the kiss didn’t come. Her eyes flew open and her breath lodged in her throat. She knew that look. It was the same one he’d given her last night when they’d first made love. She longed to hear the words yet knew it was too soon to profess love, still… She knew he felt the same way she did, but neither had made the verbal declaration that lovers always made. Staring into his blue eyes, so full of love, her pulse pounded a riotous beat. “Jen…I do…I love you,” he said in a hoarse voice full of emotion. Tears stung her eyes. The hard pounding of his heartbeat against her hand matched hers. “You’re a part of me. I never hoped to find my mate. All these centuries and to finally find you now…” His voice broke off and his body quaked. Garrett loved her! His words echoed in her mind, over and over again.

189

Sally Painter

“Oh, Garrett.” She planted a kiss on his chest and licked a path downward, tracing the fine hairline from his navel to his groin as she sank to her knees. When she took him into her mouth, his breath tore from him in a deep, throaty sound. Jen ran her tongue up his length, flicking over the weeping crown, sucking and teasing. He felt so good. She would show him just how much she loved him. Garrett held the back of her head when she wrapped her lips around his cock. She was all there was. He leaned back and she cupped his balls, massaging them. Sweat popped out along his spine and she surprised him by taking his length down her throat. “God, Jen.” He felt as though he’d explode and panted when she eased him from her mouth, licking the length of his cock and then flicking her tongue over the tip. His balls pulled tighter and when she moved to cup his ass, it required all of his self-control to keep from lifting her to the couch, spreading those long silky legs and fucking her. Instead he let her take control and startled when her finger slipped between his buttocks and pried a path to his anus. She pressed harder, the slender fingertip entering him. Pleasure pounded through him. He eased his cock from her mouth and gripped her forearms and her finger slipped from him. Garrett lifted her to his waist. Bare legs wrapped around him. “Garrett.” Her lips formed his name and all he could think about was sinking his cock into the soft folds of her sweet little cunt now pressed into his belly. “I’ll please you better next time,” he said while depositing her on the couch. “I promise.” She spread her legs for him and he kneeled on the floor, guiding himself between the tender layers of wet heat. When she tilted her pelvis to aid him, Garrett pushed deeper and the walls of her pussy closed around him. She rolled her hips, gasping as an unexpected orgasm clutched her. “Sweet paradise, you have the tightest pussy,” he grunted and stretched to release his wings, knocking over a nearby table lamp as he lifted them to the ceiling. As the spasms gripped her, Jen undulated beneath him, her cum coating his dick. Garrett moved in and out, scraping against the tightened walls of her pussy. He would possess her—brand her very soul with his mark so all would know she belonged to him—forever. No other would claim her. Neither man nor gargoyle. “Retract your wings,” she said and he obeyed by flattening them to his back. She turned them around as though dancing. “Can you fuck me like this?” she asked and he buried his face into her shoulder, chuckling. Slowly, she released them from the ceiling onto the floor. Garrett braced his feet apart and she moved up and down his cock in erotic abandon. He grasped her hips and she pumped him, drawing the cum to the very tip of his cock. Muscles flexed and jaw clenched, Garrett leaned forward to balance her on the nearby stool, pinning her against the bar. He gripped the arms of the stool and fucked her harder, grunting with each thrust. Possessed, he lifted her legs to his shoulders, tilting her hips so he could hammer

190

Reunited

his cock deeper into her. The loud slapping sound filled the salon. Waves of pleasure seized him as his cock scraped in and out of her pussy. Sweat dripped off him, plastering his hair to his skin. He dug his fingers into her hips, tugging her to him. The smacking sound of his possession drove him faster, inflaming him with the need to come. She cried out and the walls of her pussy clamped around his shaft, making him mindlessness like a rutting animal. He buried his cock into her, yet it still wasn’t enough. He must have more of her. A growl vibrated through clenched teeth and the liquid heat rushed up his shaft, bursting from the tip of his cock, hot and pulsing. His life force flowed into her. A wave of spasms gripped her. “Jen,” he rasped. His flesh was soaked with sweat. The orgasm wouldn’t let go. He groaned, enjoying the blissful rush that followed each spasm. He rocked her in his arms, still pulsing with his release as he eased her legs down to his waist and lifted her from the chair. Slender arms locked behind his head and her lips covered his in a slow afterburn, succulent and hot. Slipping from her, Garrett carried her the short distance to the leather couch and lowered her onto it. Jen sat back in the couch and cradled him between her thighs. Creamy breasts taunted him, their rosy tips rising and falling under her breathless gasps. He massaged them, letting his fingertips graze the hardened buds. “I want to mate with you, Jen,” he breathed, staring down at her. The magical moment shattered. He must tell her everything. She had a right to know about her fate. He closed his eyes against her probing stare. Guilt was an ugly intruder and harsh taskmaster. Garrett rested his head between her breasts. His eyes stung with unshed tears. God, she was his heart. How could he deny her the truth? “I love you.” The whisper fell to his ears in a sultry voice. His heart hammered against his chest. He’d waited to hear the words, knowing they’d come and imagining how they’d make him feel. He’d no idea how powerful they would be when she finally spoke them. “Jen.” Bliss belonged to him at that moment. Nothing could rob him of it, not even fate. She was his. He owned her love and she possessed his soul. “I’ll mate with you. I’m not sure what it involves, but if it means I’ll be yours forever, I want to perform the ceremony.” He grinned and stroked her face with the back of his hand. Even the sensation of his cock inside her hadn’t brought him lasting peace, but if he knew she belonged to him, was his eternal mate, then perhaps he would find the reassurance he so desperately needed. Garrett felt as though he was in a wonderful fantasy and never wanted to awaken from it. But worrisome thoughts barged in and trampled over the momentary bliss. He must find a way to save her. He must change their fates.

191

Sally Painter

He buried his face in her neck, resisting the sadness, but it split the moment apart and wrenched the joy from him. Tenderly, he brushed his hand down the length of her hair. He couldn’t live without her. A burning knot choked him. “Garrett,” she whispered. He tried to speak, to tell her how great his love for her was, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he captured her lips, wanting to kiss her forever. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it before breaking off the kiss. He shifted and stood from the couch. She stood with him and lifted onto tiptoes to cover his mouth with hers, parting his lips with her tongue. Garrett let her probe his mouth until he could no longer restrain himself and thrust his tongue into hers. If he could kiss her long enough and deep enough, he could blot out the thoughts. He could forget what lay in the shadows of tomorrow. He could deny destiny just a little longer.

***** Jen didn’t know if she could take any more pleasure. Garrett was such a thorough lover and she worried her inexperience would bore him. “Nonsense,” he said and kissed her abdomen, making his way to her groin. She blushed. He sighed, relieved she’d yet to learn to hear all of his thoughts. Once she learned how to bypass his blocking, he’d no longer be able to keep the truth from her. “You must have had thousands of lovers over your lifetime.” Her voice quivered. “You think too much,” he said. “Age doesn’t guarantee a good lover. It’s the emotions and what you give to your partner.” They’d moved to the bed and now lay entwined in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow of another passionate round of lovemaking. Garrett flicked his tongue over her bellybutton. He sensed her anticipation as he planted kisses along a path to her pussy. It excited him to know she ached to feel his tongue flick over her clit and draw the nerve bundle into a hardened nub. He would drive her wild with need before plunging his fingers into her opening to tease her into another frantic orgasm. She gasped when he splayed her labia open and touched his tongue to the rising heat. He sucked the swollen clit into his mouth and she writhed under the teasing. By all that was holy, she tasted good. Her juices rushed around his fingers as he slid them into her opening. That was what he sought. The small, almost inaudible sound of breath—short and nearly silent as she held it inside, waiting for the touch of his tongue. He knew she tottered on the edge of an orgasm and delighted in the way she undulated her hips with the rising coil of energy. He finger-fucked her, knowing she would soon reach that pinnacle of want, and begin to thrash beneath his teasing. Slowly he pulled his fingers from her and a low

192

Reunited

whimper slid between her lips. Her eyelids were narrow slits, open just enough for her sultry gaze to capture him. He entered her slowly at first but the excitement was more than he could control and he plunged his cock deeper. He longed for her to hear his thoughts, so she would know just how he felt. Could she feel the ache twisting inside him? Did she share the electric pulses surging through him? If only she could feel this moment with him just before orgasm. Roiling energy blasted through him. He groaned. Molten heat shot from his cock inside her and his nerve endings throbbed from the release. He sucked in air as the world collapsed around him and the orgasm held him in its grip. “Garrett,” she gasped, her eyelids shuttering closed. Her body spasmed beneath him and the walls of her pussy gripped his cock. Pent-up energy drained from tensed muscles. Looking down at her, Garrett realized he’d never be completely sated of his desire for Jen until they were mated. He pulled the cover over them and snuggled her closer, never wanting to let go of her.

193

Sally Painter

Chapter Eighteen Jen lay on the bed feeling the water shift beneath her every time a boat came into the dock. She could still feel Garrett’s warmth on the sheets beside her. One minute was too long to be without him. Her heartbeat quickened. “He’s the greatest gargoyle warrior to ever live,” she repeated Bel’s words. She’d heard his thoughts when the knock on the door had startled them awake and his worries had become hers. Garrett had called from the salon that it was their dinner being delivered. She rocked her foot back and forth as she lay in the bed thinking about him, not wanting to get up because it would mean their momentary retreat from the world was over. It was easy enough to relapse into the euphoria created by his lovemaking. Was it a special gargoyle power? She wished there were someone to talk to about what was happening. Another woman would understand what she was going through—maybe. At least the falling in love part, except she hadn’t fallen in love with a man. He was a mystical being. She scrunched the pillow underneath her head. It was absurd to think anyone could understand. And what was she now? She had all these new abilities and faced some great unknown destiny obscured by time. Absently, she wondered if Bel might possibly be a confidante but quickly dismissed her as a candidate. The last one to confide in was her lover’s sister. Besides, Garrett could read their minds. She sighed, regretting she’d never developed any close relationships. Her condition had prevented her from taking such risks. What would her parents say if they knew she hadn’t been mentally ill? Her stomach pitched. Her mind was a whirl of memories. It felt like a separate lifetime. So much had changed and yet her new life felt ancient. She sat up in bed and tugged the covers around her as she leaned back against the headboard. How different would life have been had she received the validation she so desperately needed as a child? Anger burst past the thoughts. Anger that her parents, try as they had, never found the silver bullet to cure her. There was no need for a cure. All she’d ever needed was the truth. Regrets tortured her until Jen threw the covers aside and padded into the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help clear her mind. She turned the water on and opened the cabinets to retrieve a washcloth and a couple of towels. Finding soap and shampoo in the shower stall, she stepped in

194

Reunited

underneath the warm spray with a deep sigh. She soaped up the washcloth and brushed it over her arm. What if she’d never met Garrett? She pursed her lips. How was she going to reconcile these gargoyles? The rogues believed she could heal them. But how? Reconcile their differences. The phrase echoed in her mind. Was she to serve as a bridge for the two factions? She wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was that simple. She recalled how deranged Yates had been and then there were Red and Jackson. Also unstable. Starn and his crew seemed different. They seemed more like bad boys than mentally deranged rogues. Could there be more that she wasn’t seeing? Something Garrett had witnessed with Starn that she’d yet to experience? How could she possibly repair their relationship? It was clear Garrett hated Starn. Even if Starn wasn’t a rogue like Yates, Garrett would still hate him. Her pulse jumped. If there was a battle going on between good and evil then a higher force would need a hand in how it played out. At least she hoped so. “Dammit.” She gritted her teeth. It was too much to contemplate. She closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall, letting the water fall over her. She imagined her doubts washing away and swirling down the drain. Her life had done a tailspin and through it all was one constant, Garrett. Their connection was so powerful it should scare her, but the closer she got to him, the more she wanted him. Every part of her was attuned to his touch. She’d certainly had more sex than she’d had in years. Jen smiled, unable to stop it from spreading over her face, stretching her lips until she felt she must look like a silly fool. It wasn’t just great sex, there were intense emotions behind their coupling. How was it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? She straightened and shampooed her hair, working in the lather. She quickly rinsed the shampoo from her hair, watching the suds slide over her body and down the drain. It was symbolic of shedding her old life. She worked in the conditioner and her thoughts turned to Eric. She needed to call him again. Her heart ached for the teenager. Jen knew he was innocent, but how could she help him? She rinsed the conditioner from her hair and rubbed the soapy washcloth over her breasts and down her stomach. She drew it between her legs and rubbed her groin, remembering what it felt like to receive Garrett inside her. The fantasy was interrupted by another worrisome thought. What if the police had tried to call her? How was she going to handle demon cops? Her mind churned with questions, pitching her into a chaotic bundle of nerves, especially when she thought about Marcy. She choked on the tears. Normally, she’d have gone over to Marcy’s house to be with her mother. She was devastated over the girl’s brutal murder and more than a little guilty for not being there for Mrs. Reames. How could the woman cope with such a loss? How could Jen explain her absence for the past day? And how could she convince

195

Sally Painter

anyone she’d been running around dodging demons? But there was more, she’d also fallen in love with an incredible sexy…gargoyle. A dangerous thought began to germinate in her mind. Slowly, she turned off the water, still contemplating the nugget of possibility as she wrapped a towel around her head and drew another one around her body. She was the Reconciler. She had already discovered taking action was better than sitting around waiting for something to happen. It was up to her to take action―again.

***** “It’s confirmed, sir,” the gargoyle said and handed Garrett the folder. When the knock on the door had sounded, Garrett had grabbed a pair of pants and now stood in the salon as the soldier stepped past him to deposit the takeout order on the kitchen bar and place Jen’s bag on the floor. “Had these for you too,” he said and dropped the military-style duffel bag on the floor. “Bel said they were your clothes.” Garrett nodded, not paying much attention as he opened the folder. He ground his teeth together as he stared at the photo, knowing the face staring back at him all too well. He flipped it over to read the report. Dex Tracker Threat. He skimmed it until the words new king of demons caught his attention. “Who verified Tracker’s new status?” “I did.” The gargoyle squared his shoulders as though preparing for an interrogation. Garrett nodded and closed the folder. “Good work, Holtz.” He handed it to his new lieutenant, a gargoyle older than he, who wore his brown hair in braids on either side of his face. “The demons have a lair around here judging by the numbers they’ve sent in each wave of attack. It’ll be near the Abyss. Tracker will protect the Abyss at all costs but to open it he’s going to need more than the Reconciler. He’s going to need a water demon. We need to find it.” “I did some recon when I arrived this evening and there was a water demon, but he died in a boating accident a couple of months ago.” His dark eyes squinted and Garrett had the strangest feeling the gargoyle was attempting to connect with him telepathically. “What happened?” he asked and blocked Holtz’s telepathic attempt. Surely the garg wasn’t that insubordinate. “He was a shrimper and died while out on his rig. Fell overboard.” “Any relatives?” “A son who’s about to turn seventeen.” He lifted an eyebrow.

196

Reunited

“And Tracker can use that power of the kid’s transformation to force the Abyss open but only if he sacrifices the Reconciler. What’s the kid’s name?” “Eric Dolby,” the soldier said and pulled out a photo from another folder. Garrett took it, frowning at the way the gargoyle was looking at him. “Is there something on your mind, Lieutenant?” he asked as he looked at the photo of the teenager. Holtz straightened to attention. “I was just wondering if it’s true, sir. Yates really turned rogue and tried to—” “It’s all true. Bel will brief you later.” “Aye, sir. I just can’t believe Yates would turn on you and the Sgaith Council.” “I had a hard time believing it and I was a witness, but we both know how the virus transforms. Who would have thought our greatest demon enemy would be Dex Tracker?” “Aye, sir.” But Garrett sensed the soldier hadn’t asked the real question on his mind. Could it be Jen’s scent stayed with him after their fierce lovemaking? That must be it. Lieutenant Holtz was probably the latest victim of the Reconciler’s intoxicating scent. Garrett studied the photo, dismissing the soldier’s preoccupation. He’d have answers soon enough. “The kid is missing and accused of murdering his co-worker, Marcy Reames, found dead in the swamps. The cops are trying to keep it quiet—don’t want the tourism hurt by rumors of an occult murder in the swamps. The kid works for a woman named Jen Ormand.” “What?” Garrett braced himself. “She runs a little flower shop—” “I know who she is.” “Then it’s true? She is the Reconciler?” Garrett nodded. The pieces fell into place. Eric was the missing link needed to fulfill the Legend. He had worked for Jen, probably by design. His mind buzzed. Did Jen know about Marcy? She hadn’t mentioned it but his hunger for her had overpowered all small talk. The memory of their lovemaking filled his mind to distraction and he mentally shook himself. “The prophecy is unfolding,” he said. “We’re headed for a final battle and judging by the signs, Tracker will make his move tomorrow night.” “But we’re only eighty strong, Commander. Granted, we can take a lot of demons with us, but to win, we’re going to need reinforcements.” “Select five troops, ones you can depend on. Your mission is to find this kid. Only then can we stop Tracker.” “Begging your pardon, sir, but is there any way we can enlist Starn and his—” 197

Sally Painter

“Starn?” Garrett’s laughter filled the room. “I know the history between you but rumor has it Starn has nearly five hundred troops.” “What?” Garrett turned to face him. “He’s raised an army?” “Looks that way, sir.” Holtz nodded and rubbed his face, flicking a single long braid over his shoulder. “Starn with his own army. Now there’s a disturbing thought,” Garrett said and ran his hand through his hair. “Didn’t he provide troops at your house? I heard he had casualties…well with the rogues I guess they were only temporary casualties, but he was a genuine host to us while we waited for your return. In fact, some of the guys are still up at his club, choosing to stay there until the briefing. I was there, sir, and while some tension exists, it started to get close to old times.” Holtz stared at him as though expecting Garrett to agree it was a good idea. “Starn isn’t reliable. He’s a rogue. Anything he does for the Clisneach is because he still loves Bel,” he said. “Then he should be willing to join forces with us,” Holtz surmised. “Starn has done an excellent job providing protection to my guest, but we can’t rely on his troops. They’re rogues, Holtz. Deception is a honed skill for them. They’re unstable. What good would they be in battle?” “Their fighting instincts are at a higher level because of the virus,” Holtz argued. “I assure you, Starn is weaker. They all are. Like rabid animals. They could turn on us just as easily as they could a demon. Yates proved that today. I know it’s easy to fall into believing they’re still our brothers and sisters. You of all gargoyles should know how dangerous a rogue can be,” he said, hating to dredge up the memory of the Holtz’s sister, who had transformed during the first wave of victims. “But, sir,” Holtz started to argue. “We won’t use Starn or any of his men. If they get in our way, make sure our gargs know they are to defend themselves no matter who the enemy is. I’ll meet with the troops later this evening after Bel’s briefed everyone. In the meantime, I want you to select a team and go find this Eric Dolby kid. Bring him back here ASAP.” “Aye, sir,” Holtz said and saluted. Garrett returned the salute. The day’s events weighed heavily on him. It just kept getting more complicated and would be a tangled mess before it was all over. Starn had raised an army. That was dangerous. Garrett needed to confront him and make it clear any uprising would be dealt with swiftly. And to make matters even more desperate, he had a teenage water demon about to transform. They must find him before Tracker had a chance to capture the kid. The sound of a shower drew his thoughts back to Jen. He decided to confront Starn before he did anything else.

198

Reunited

***** “Nice set-up.” Garrett looked about the high-ceilinged office and frowned. It was typical Starn. Dark and brooding. “Still hanging on to the past?” Garrett moved over to study the Grecian urn in the lighted niche. Loud music, although muffled, pounded with a driving beat on the other side of the door and he stepped further into the office. “Bel and I had a good life in Atlantis,” Starn said, and walked over to the sideboard to pour a drink. “That was a wedding gift from the High Priestess of the Atlantean College of Healing Arts.” “Long time ago.” Garrett tightened his fists by his sides, determined to keep his hatred from interfering with the reason he was there. He moved to examine another lighted niche and immediately recognized the piece. “Remember that one?” Starn asked. Ancient memories flooded back and Garrett was instantly transported to that mountainside strewn with the broken, bloodied bodies of hell’s army. Not demons but creatures spawned from fire and molten earth and a fiercer enemy than their modern counterparts. A race the gargoyles annihilated by fighting alongside the Greeks. “Hercules’ belt.” Garrett leaned forward to look at the wide leather and bronze belt. Ornate carvings encased precisely cut gems, depicting mythical scenes of men fighting monsters. “Yeah, he was one grateful guy. Said he couldn’t have won without me by his side and then gave me his most prized possession,” Starn said with such a smug look Garrett wanted to slam his fist into his face. “Yeah, the entire gargoyle legion fighting by his side also helped a little.” “He chose to give the belt to me,” Starn said and gulped back the brandy. “It’s so damn ancient the world has no memory of the event, not even in mythology.” “So why are you here, man? Obviously not to traipse down memory lane and reminisce about the glory days when we fought monsters and made men gods. Did you come over to break my other hand?” “Tracking down rumors.” Garrett glared at him. “And here I thought you’d come to thank me for saving your ass today. I still have men standing guard around your houseboat and dead ones reviving. Do you have any idea what an agonizing and slow process that is? You could show a bit of gratitude.” He flopped down into the nearby chair and the ice clinked against the glass. “You did it because of Bel. You don’t care about Jen and you sure as hell don’t care about me.” “Whatever, man.” Starn tipped the glass and swallowed the liquor. “So tell me why you’re here.”

199

Sally Painter

“Seems like five hundred rogues have gathered in Averyton.” Garrett turned to face him. “Why are you organizing an army?” “Me?” Starn laughed. “I’ve spent the last year trying to keep my handful of loyals safe from the fucking demons. Ever since the bastards found out we can’t die, they capture us just to have something to torture. They caught one of my guys a month ago and we just found him three days ago. He’s still recovering. So you see? I don’t have time to organize a fricking army.” “What do you know then?” “They come to my club. I see them on the docks. I know some from the old days. Some I don’t. They started moving here about a year ago like fucking migrating birds. If you ask them why they chose this place, I doubt any could tell you. None of them know. They just felt drawn here.” “What do you mean drawn here?” “That’s what they say whenever I ask.” “Dammit, Starn, we’re headed for one horrific battle and the winner will decide the fate for not just mankind but also for our race.” Garrett gripped the back of the leather chair. “Tracker is preparing to unseal the Abyss.” “I’ve heard all this shit before, man. But I’ve not seen any Abyss around here. Where is it?” Garrett took a deep breath. Arguing would not glean the information he needed so he decided to alter his approach. “What do you know about Tracker’s plans for tomorrow night?” “Man, what could I possibly know? Are you just not hearing me? I don’t know anything outside my club and this marina.” Starn held up his cast. “Do I look like I’m in any condition to wage war?” He took another gulp of whiskey. “I’d think you’d want to help because Bel will be defending against whatever Tracker does. Besides, where’s your loyalty to your race?” Garrett gritted his teeth. “Are you serious, man? What race are you talking about? Yours? Mine? The Pures? I haven’t helped the Clisneach since I was kicked out on my ass. I don’t have any delusions of my race’s loyalty to me. Why should I have any for the Clisneach? All the Pures fear they’ll end up just like us. But I guess that’s a fear you no longer have.” Garrett started to comment when Starn held his hand up. “I know, you don’t think you’re infected, but you can move about in daylight. How’s that possible if you aren’t one of us? So which race are you going to pledge loyalty to? The one that was going to exile you after you did their dirty work? Yeah, I heard all about what happened tonight. Rumors are blazing a path back to you and your little Reconciler.” “This is pointless,” Garrett growled, turning for the door. “You’re fucking right it’s pointless.” Starn jumped from the chair and moved over to the sideboard. 200

Reunited

Garrett couldn’t leave without finding out who the leader was. He turned back to Starn. “Just one last thing. Tracker is going to unseal the Abyss tomorrow night. Siding with Tracker would be a big mistake. So whoever is leading these rogues, they have just as much to lose as the rest of us. Maybe more.” “I told you all I know,” Starn said with a steady glare. “Yeah?” Garrett challenged. “You aren’t listening to me, man.” “It’s a waste of time talking to you.” “No, it’s a waste of time trying to convince me to take up a cause for the Sgaith Council when they turned their backs on me—on all of us who contracted the virus. Like we chose to become rogues.” His face flushed a brilliant crimson. “After tonight I don’t guess they’re so high and mighty. Had they evolved with the rest of us, they’d currently be reviving.” “Dammit, Starn. Our race is on the threshold of annihilation.” Garrett recalled how they’d served side by side as best friends. Now he hated Starn. Hated him for the suffering he’d inflicted on Bel…for destroying their friendship. “My race shunned me like some modern-day leper.” “We had no solution to the problem. What would you have done?” “See, that’s just it.” He held the glass up, shaking his forefinger at Garrett. “It isn’t a problem for us, man. It’s a problem for the Pures. There’s only one solution. Acceptance, bro.” “The Proclamation—” “Spare me. If we were equals, I’d still be your lieutenant and we’d be fighting demons side-by-side. Instead, I’m part of a sub-race.” “There’s no reaching you,” Garrett growled. “You’re a contradiction to yourself.” “Yeah?” Garrett asked. “You want to talk about our race? Let’s examine it. First there’s Yates. She didn’t just betray you, she slaughtered the Sgaith Council as surely as if she cut them down herself. And what about Red and Jackson? Do you consider them to be gargoyles? Part of our race? “Look around you, man, there is no race outside the Clisneach Guard. Yates is proof of that truth. She was your lieutenant for what? Four? Five hundred years? Would you consider her part of your race after tonight? Our race no longer exists, man. It’s over. It’s just a matter of time before every gargoyle becomes infected. There can’t be any unity. The Legend was created to give false hope to the infected. To keep us under control.”

201

Sally Painter

It was a revelation that Starn and those infected no longer considered themselves to be gargoyles. The pain of centuries cramped around Garrett’s heart. As much as he hated to admit it, Starn was right. It was their destiny. The once-powerful race of gargoyles entrusted with the protection of the human race was being destroyed by an invisible internal enemy. And Garrett was helpless to change it. Even though he was relieved not to be a mutant, he suddenly realized he, too, was no longer part of the Clisneach. He was the only one of his kind. Whatever that was. “As for your beloved Sgaith Council, hell man, they were ready to condemn you for fucking a human. Their precious Reconciler. I heard they voted to exile you right before they were slaughtered. I mean, I can’t believe they were going to let you continue to serve. So you should be thanking Yates and Red, hell, even Jackson, for no longer being gargoyles, man. They saved your life. It’s time you faced the truth about yourself— you’re every bit a mutant as I am.” The veins in his face constricted and bulged at his temples. Garrett knew despite the even tone in Starn’s voice, he was close to the boiling point. He fisted his hands until the knuckles whitened. Every part of him wanted to thrash Starn, but the only reason he’d come here was for information and he refused to leave without it. Once he had it, then he’d pound that grin right off Starn’s face. “All I can say is when this battle happens, I promise I’ll protect Bel, but that’s as far as my protection goes, so watch your back, Garrett. It would destroy Bel if something happened to you.” Dread churned in his belly. Once the demons were defeated the real battle would be between the Clisneach Guard and the rogues. Garrett hung his head. It truly was the darkest of times. His race was divided and doomed for destruction either way. And as for the humans, well, they lived in oblivion to the impending battle to be fought. A battle that would determine if they continued in live in freedom or were enslaved in a demonic new world. “You’re making a mistake. Demons will rule this world if you don’t stand up and show some balls,” Garrett said. “You son of a bitch!” Starn jumped from the chair, his fist clenched and jaw locked against the rage glaring in his eyes. “If your girlfriend is the Reconciler, man, I suggest you tell her to hurry the fuck up and do whatever she’s supposed to do,” he seethed. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Starn. You can rise to the challenge and emerge a leader for the rogues.” Garrett stared at him. “You don’t want to face the truth.” Starn took a step closer. Garrett braced for his attack but Starn just paced in front of him. “There’s no leading this mass of unrulies. It’s chaos…in its purest form.” Sweat broke out across his forehead. “You’re a coward,” Garrett snarled, despising him for not being what he used to be. “At least fight!” “Get the hell out of my club!”

202

Reunited

Garrett was tempted to have it out once and for all with his brother-in-law. Instead, he jerked the door open, slamming it behind him. His senses were assaulted by loud music as he made his way through the throng of writhing, undulating bodies. At last he emerged from the dark, smoky building and breathed in the humid air. He turned toward the docks and the houseboat, knowing Jen would be finished with her shower and wondering where he was.

203

Sally Painter

Chapter Nineteen “Garrett!” Jen rushed from the galley when he entered the houseboat and fell into his arms, planting kisses over his face. “I was just calling Bel. Where have you been?” She stood in front of him wearing the red dress he’d selected from her closet and packed with a few other pieces of clothing. She filled it out better than he’d imagined. He let his gaze travel down to the short hem where it stopped mid-thigh, revealing tanned slender legs that set a fire in his gut and raced to his groin. “I had some business to take care of and…” he held up the new cell phone, “Bel had one of my men rush out and buy me another phone before the store closed. I’m sorry I worried you,” he said and hugged her, trying to shove the sting of his conversation with Starn aside. “I was.” Jen trembled in his arms. “I need to talk with you. Marcy—” “I just found out. I’m so sorry.” He kissed her forehead. She pulled from him to stare up into his eyes. “They think Eric Dolby, my other employee, killed her. He didn’t. I know he didn’t. He left a voice mail for me this afternoon. I wanted to tell you all about it earlier but we’ve just not had time for conversation.” She blushed and he wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her back to bed. “I tried calling him all afternoon and just tried again. All I get is his voice mail. I’m so worried, Garrett.” She bit her lower lip and Garrett held her to him as though he could shield her from everything coming their way if only he could hold her close enough. God, he wanted to stop time. It was the only way he could save her. His mind raced with possible solutions but they all required taking her away from Averyton and out of harm’s way. It felt as though his heart ripped from his chest. If she tried to sacrifice herself as the Legend stated, he wouldn’t allow it. “Shh.” He stroked her damp hair. “I have some of my troops out searching for him.” “You do? But how did you know?” she asked, lifting her face. Hope rose in her eyes. “Sit down,” he said and guided her to a nearby chair. “I need to tell you about Eric Dolby.” “He’s innocent.” “I know, but he’s on the verge of turning seventeen.” Garrett stooped down in front of her and held her hands in his. “Yeah, great birthday present for him.” 204

Reunited

“That’s not what I meant. Jen, Eric’s a demon.” “What?” Jen felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Why would you say such a thing?” She searched his face for some sign he was teasing. Her stare was met by a very stern expression. “It’s the truth.” “I thought you said demons couldn’t be on water. His dad was a shrimper. Eric used to work with him until he took the job with me. You’re wrong, Garrett.” “He’s a different kind of demon. Like Starn is a different kind of gargoyle. Eric is what’s called a water demon.” She laughed at the terminology. “I’m serious.” His voice was stern and his expression assured Jen he was. “You’re misinformed. I’ve known this kid for months and not once has he phased out.” “Water demons don’t. You have to be trained to distinguish them from humans. It’s easy for a gargoyle. We see all demons. Listen to me, Jen, I’m telling you the truth.” Raw emotions slipped to the surface, taking her off guard. “Don’t cry, baby.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Look, he’s not really a demon―yet. But once he completes the rite of passage he will be.” Garrett cupped her face in his hands and wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. “W-What does he have to do to complete it?” She sniffed. “Kill a human. A powerful enemy of the demons.” He couldn’t say the words. He wouldn’t tell her that Eric must kill her. He couldn’t. “N-No, he didn’t kill Marcy. I can feel it,” she cried. “I believe you, but Tracker is after him. A water demon is needed to open the Abyss,” he said. “What Abyss?” Jen asked, feeling as though she didn’t understand anything about the real world. “The gateway to hell.”

***** “You can’t stay here, Mom. Someone may have followed you.” Eric glanced at his mother, dressed in a yellow blouse and cutoff blue jeans. They stood beside each other, leaning on the railing, trying to appear as though they didn’t know each other. Seagulls flew overhead, catching an occasional piece of bread one of the fishermen tossed in the air. While the pier was crowded and served as a good meeting place, their enemies could be watching. Eric knew demons had an army of minions called toadies, humans

205

Sally Painter

who aspired to serve them with the promise of being made immortal. It wasn’t something a demon could do, but the promise was used to entice servitude. A toady would risk life and limb if it meant gaining favor and a step closer to eternal life. “Take this,” his mom said and shoved a roll of bills into his hand. “That’s from Dad’s life insurance policy. You need it to survive.” “I have a job, son. You ain’t got nothing. It’s all I can do for you. The police will be back with a search warrant. Do you know someplace on the water where you can stay? Don’t go back to the swamps. That’s their territory. You need to be on the water. Find a boat and sail out of here.” “It’ll never be safe, Mom. You know that. They killed Dad because he refused to help them. Now they’ve killed Marcy and framed me. They know it’s the only way they can get me.” She grasped his hand, trembling. “Mom,” he said, hating to leave her all alone. It wasn’t fair that she be left alone. “I can’t even hug you goodbye,” she said, her lower lip quivering as she blinked against the tears. “You’re so much like your father. I’m very proud of you, Eric. His death won’t be in vain as long as you resist. Don’t let them turn you into something you don’t want to be.” “I won’t.” He shoved the money in his shorts pocket. “This new king, Tracker, who came to see me tonight—” “He won’t get me.” “Just remember you can be on water and they can’t. Remember that, Son. I just couldn’t stand to lose you too.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll remember.” She nodded, seeming to bite back tears. A lump lodged in his throat and Eric longed to be a child once more when all he had to do was fall into his mother’s arms and she’d make everything all right. “Here’s the new cell phone.” She placed it on the rail. He covered it with his hand and shoved it into his other pocket. “It’s registered under George O’Toole. Pay as you go. You can renew it at any center. I bought seven hundred minutes.” “What did you do with my old phone?” “I burned it in the grill like you told me and buried what was left in the vegetable garden.” “Good. I’ll call when things settle down,” he said, not daring to turn to her. Tears threatened and his throat burned. With his helmet tucked under one arm, Eric turned and walked away, leaving his mom alone on the crowded pier. He dodged fishing gear, mindful of the people he passed underneath the harsh pier lights. He looked over his shoulder. Any one of these people could be a toady. The 206

Reunited

marina glowed with an eerie bluish haze. He had to stay sharp. He needed to talk with Jen. Where the hell was she? He’d tried calling her from a payphone earlier that afternoon, but the call had gone straight into voice mail and he’d hung up. Had the demons kidnapped her? If she ended up like Marcy… His heart beat harder. He had to do something and decided to ride over to Jen’s house. If the cops were there, he could outmaneuver them on his motorcycle. He swung his leg over the bike, jabbed the key in the ignition and kicked the starter. The engine revved. He didn’t know how he could save Jen but he was going to try. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he thought how normal his life had been up until his sixteenth birthday. That was when the world changed. When he found out he was a demon. And if that wasn’t difficult enough to comprehend, then the truth about the Gargoyle Legend and his role in the final days certainly was. He often wished his dad had never told him any of it. He’d gone along with Tracker after meeting him online, sensing the demon would led him to the truth about his destiny. When Tracker had suggested he take the job with Jen, he’d rebelled, but overt threats made against his father had spurred him to do whatever was necessary to keep the demons from coercing his dad into helping them. It hadn’t stopped them. His dad had refused to help them and they’d murdered him. Since then, he’d tried to find a way to stop the Legend from unfolding. He took a labored breath. He was failing. Turning onto another street, he thought about his dad’s trawler. If he had the boat, then he could sail across the sound and maneuver it through the Outer Banks and into the open sea. It would be treacherous but worth the risk if it meant he’d be free to go anywhere. He’d be safe. But the fantasy shattered when he recalled the police had impounded the boat and hauled it away. He now knew why they’d gone to such measures and had blocked his mother’s attempt to have it released. Enough thinking about what had happened, he frowned. Tightening his grip on the handlebars, the leather was slick underneath his sweaty palms. He steered the motorcycle along the road leading out of Marina Row. If only he could get away from everything. Eric opened the throttle and shot down a side road, cutting through the marshes and heading toward town. His thoughts turned to Marcy. Why had the demons gone after her? A cold dread coiled in his stomach bringing with it the need to throw up. Her death was a tool to them, nothing more. A way to force him to join them by framing him for murder so the police would bring him in and then hand him over to them. He lifted the visor on his helmet and scratched at the tears. Would he have submitted had he known they’d go after Marcy? He knew the answer. He would have done anything to save her life. Anything. The air smelled sweeter with the hot remnants of the day lifting from the ground. For a brief moment he was transported back to the summers he’d spent with his dad. Always helping him with the fishing trawler. This was the first summer he hadn’t

207

Sally Painter

worked with him. His parents had been upset when he took the job with Jen, but once they realized he was determined to see it through for the rest of the season, they’d relented. Guilt slashed through him. Had he been on the boat, his dad would still be alive. At least that’s what he wanted to believe. After the past days, Eric realized the rogue gargoyles who killed his dad would have kidnapped him. As he pushed the bitter thoughts away, memories of past summers spent working with his dad flooded past him. He remembered one summer drought had brought blue crabs into the shallow, slightly brackish waters of the Albemarle Sound. They’d netted enough crabs to pay for an old truck. A sharp pang of grief pierced through him. It was like a knife slicing past his skin and straight into his heart. God, he needed his dad. Growing into an adult wasn’t easy but his dad had made it seem so natural. Eric had known where he was going. But during the past months it had grown as murky as the backwater and stunk just as bad. Without his dad, Eric didn’t know if he could follow the path his parents had prepared for him. He didn’t know if he could ever live up to his mother’s expectations, especially now that her future depended upon him. What if he made the wrong choice? He gripped the handlebars tighter and opened the throttle, pushing the bike faster than he knew was safe along the narrow sandy strip. The bike’s headlights illuminated the swaying sea grass, creating the illusion of a field of oats. Many times at night he’d been tempted to take off on a short excursion across the tall grasses, but knew the only thing awaiting such a foolish maneuver was a swamp or worse, quicksand. One just never knew what lurked underneath those waving tasseled heads. But he knew. Just another thing his dad had taught him. His dad had held all the answers. Tears stung his eyes, partly from the wind, but mostly from the deep loneliness festering inside him. Now there was only silence to his questions. Everything was jumbled up with too many possible responses to every situation he faced. And he had faced some pretty difficult circumstances lately. His thoughts turned back to Jen and when he geared down at the intersection, he decided to try calling her again. He retrieved the cell phone just as an SUV pulled up behind him. Before he could react and pull off onto the shoulder of the road, another SUV rumbled past, skidding sideway in front of him. Demons piled out of the two SUVs and unseated him. He struggled with them but they were stronger. One of them turned off the motorcycle. “Going somewhere?” a tall man asked as he unfolded his tall frame from the vehicle. Eric immediately recognized him. “Tracker.” The air wheezed from his lungs. 208

Reunited

“Get him in the car and load up the motorcycle.” He fought with the brute monster but it laughed and carried him toward the SUV. “Let me go, you bastard.” Eric pounded his fists into the demon’s face. It grunted but didn’t break stride, depositing him into the back seat.

***** Jen’s breath caught in her throat as the rough tongue stroked her tender flesh. The desensitized nub throbbed under the friction of his licking. A mass of goose bumps followed in the wake of delightful sensations cascading down her legs. She moaned and rolled her hips. Garrett lifted his face and drew his wing over her, tracing a path around her breasts and fanning her nipples with light strokes. Her eyes shuttered closed. Anticipation seized her as he drew the feather over her abdomen. Firm muscles flinched and tensed in the wake of the tickling path to her groin. She held her breath, expectant of the feather brushing over her pussy, and rolled her hips to greet it, only he didn’t touch her there. Instead he dipped the feather tip down the length of one leg and up the other. Jen raised her hips to meet the soft fluttering and still he didn’t touch the feather to the heat between her legs. A moan slipped past her lips and Jen opened her eyes, meeting his stare, sensing the excitement growing in him. He teased her like a cat playing with its prey, only she was a willing prey. “Please,” she murmured, unable to concentrate enough to form a sentence. He splayed the lips of her pussy open and drew the soft feather over her clit and she writhed against the tickling sensation, gasping for breath. He fluttered the feather faster then stopped Jen clamped her teeth down on her lower lip. “Please, don’t stop. More,” she begged. Jen looked up at him through heavy eyelids and found his smile. A slow sexy smile. She rolled her head into the pillows, unable to pull herself from his spell, not wanting to. The fur along his brow wrinkled as his smile spread over his face. Appreciation filled his gaze. “I want to tease you,” he said and fluttered the feather over her abdomen. “Turn over.” He brushed his hand along her hip and eased Jen onto her stomach. Jen woke from the dream. Not so much a dream but a replaying of their last lovemaking. She eased from the bed and removed the terrycloth robe hanging on the bathroom door, wrapping it around her. She looked down at her sleeping lover. Her stomach growled again and she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 4:30. She’d not slept long, but was glad she was no longer trapped in the nightmares about Marcy and Eric. Once more, guilt hung over her newfound happiness. How could things be so contrasted between tragedy and joy? She opened the stateroom door and stepped into the hall, closing it quietly behind her. She listened for any sounds of Bel moving about the boat before heading toward

209

Sally Painter

the galley. The deathly silence rang in her ears. Perhaps Bel was still out on patrol or whatever it was she did as a gargoyle warrior. Entering the galley, Jen walked over to her bag and spotted the cell phone charger on top of it. She grabbed her PDA and plugged it in. Drawing the terrycloth robe tighter around her, Jen walked through the salon and shoved back the sliding door, stepping outside onto the covered deck. The marina was an eerie quiet. The nightclubs were dark and the ever-present driving beat of music was now silent, giving over to the lull of crickets, frogs and cicadas. The water lapping against hundreds of hulls was hypnotic. She released a deep sigh. Early morning on Marina Row was mystical with its sleepy atmosphere and occasional stirrings of die-hard fishermen gearing up for a day on the sound. “Is everything okay?” the deep voice spoke behind her. Jen jumped, grasping the collar of the robe to her throat. She turned to find a long-haired man dressed in a dark tshirt and trousers leaning against the side of the houseboat about a foot from the sliding glass doors. “I-I just wanted some air,” she said and realized the only privacy she would find was inside the houseboat. She turned and hurried back inside, locking the door behind her. Why hadn’t she noticed him standing there when she first went outside? She shivered and decided to make some coffee. Ever since Garrett had saved her from the demons’ attack, Jen found herself clinging to routines of normalcy. The simplest everyday things like the smell of brewing coffee calmed her and gave her a momentary respite from jangled nerves. She set about making a pot of coffee, picking up the remains of their seafood dinner and tossing the takeout boxes into the trash can. As the coffeemaker began to drip water through the filter, she sat down on one of the barstools and retrieved her PDA. The backlight flashed on and she scrolled for any messages. No text messages, no emails, no voice mail. Her stomach knotted with the thought of Eric hiding from the police, and after what Garrett had told her, the teenager was now also hiding from demons, just like she was. Garrett said he’d sent troops to search for Eric, but so far they hadn’t found him. A short beep sounded and a voice mail icon flashed across the screen.

210

Reunited

Chapter Twenty Garrett opened his eyes, unsure what had awoken him. The shrill sound of his cell phone had him reaching for the nightstand. Flipping it open, he sat up in bed and glared at the empty place beside him. He ran his hand over the rumpled linens, cool beneath his fingers. A sharp pain stabbed him as he stared at the stark preview of his life without Jen. “Garrett?” Bel’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “What time is it?” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Where are you?” “Nearly sunrise. I’m just leaving the swamp. I picked up the scent of a water demon and followed it out here.” “How many troops do you have with you?” “Just three, but we were like demon wranglers,” she laughed and he could hear the male laughter echoing around her. “We found the kid being held by demons and managed to free him. We’re heading back to the marina.” “Where’s Holtz?” “He and Jansen took the North side. Look, I’m going to stay at Starn’s and give you two lovebirds some space. I’ll keep water baby with me over there.” “So,” he sighed. “You’re back with Starn?” “Not the way you mean. He offered me a guest room on his houseboat. Just better for you and Jen to well, you, know. There’s not a lot of time left and I just figured you could at least have today to yourselves.” Bel’s voice broke off. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, we’ll be back in before sunrise, so don’t worry about me.” “I’m thinking of taking the houseboat onto the sound for the day in case any rogues on Tracker’s payroll or suicidal demons pay a surprise visit to the marina today. “That’s a great idea. Why don’t you take her some place secluded for a little love fest …maybe even…” her voice faded in and out. “Our connection is breaking up, Bel. I’ll talk with you late afternoon then.” “No! Don’t call me. You need this time…alone… Jen. It’s all you’ll ever have…look, just have a great time together. If I need anything…can contact Holtz…should…before sunrise…” Her broken words ended and the call dropped. He closed the phone. The middle of Albemarle Sound was the safest place for the Reconciler while they awaited tonight’s battle. His gut churned at the thought of what awaited her. He still had a day to find a way to save her. Garrett stood from the bed. He’d make today an adventure for her. A cozy cove for a day of lovemaking.

211

Sally Painter

He’d never spent a day on the open water. Hell, until yesterday he’d never spent the day in sunlight by choice. He’d been caught in the rays a few times and been forced to wait for sunset to be set free. Since Bel said no calls, Garrett turned his cell phone off and tossed it onto the dresser. She was right. He needed uninterrupted time with Jen. No cell phone for either of them.

***** Bel nodded to the gargoyles but frowned at the teenager still struggling under her hold. “Give it up, kid. You’re with us now. We’re the good guys,” she said. “Yeah, right. I so trust gargoyles because you love demons.” “You aren’t a demon yet, kid, and if I have anything to do with it, you never will be.” She glanced back at the church ruins where she’d witnessed the ghastly slaughter of the Sgaith Council. Damn demons loved to hang in the same places. At least there’d only been a handful of them guarding the kid. “Yates is missing. No sign of her.” The two gargoyles ran from the ruins toward her. “Garrett was going to have her moved.” She reached for the cell phone to call him but a movement behind the ruins snapped her attention. She glanced at her companions who had also seen the shadows moving behind the charred building. She motioned for them to split up, and still holding Eric by the shoulder, prepared to lift from the ground. A rustling sound came from behind her and Bel pivoted just as a demon ran from the darkness. “It’s a trap!” Eric screamed. Adrenaline pumped through Bel as she lifted from the ground, pulling him with her. “Look out!” he shouted. White-hot pain shot through her shoulder. Bel cried out, clutching the wound, while holding onto the teenager with her other hand. There were a series of cries from the ground as her troops were ambushed. Bel looked down at the blood gushing around the steel point protruding from her shoulder. Her grip on the kid slipped and he yelled. He grabbed her leg and wrapped his arms around it. Each movement sent jagged pain, streaking down her arm like a barbed wire tearing her flesh. It was impossible to lift her right wing. Each time she attempted to draw it downward to gain altitude, pain shot through her shoulder and forced her to lower it. She began to spin, flapping one wing to control her descent. Bel forced her wing up. A bitter cry tore from her and released in a roar. Another arrow struck her back, finding its mark where her wing arched from her flesh. She screamed under the searing pain of the second wound and her hold on the teenager slipped a little more as they plummeted toward the ground.

212

Reunited

Eric yelled when her grip finally gave under the onslaught of pain. She watched through blurred vision as he slipped from her, gripping at her boot until he fell the last ten feet into the swamp, crashing in a splash. A mass of undulating bodies moved toward him, their grunting sounds becoming louder as they rushed to retrieve their prize. Bel flapped her one good wing and aimed for the trees but was overcome by the wicked burning in her back. She slumped forward and plummeted toward the ground. The impact thrust the arrow deeper into her flesh and she roared from the blinding pain and fell face forward. She had to get up, save the kid and fly away. She struggled to rise from the ground but was brought flat on her face once more by a fierce blow across the back of her head. “Starn,” she murmured as the world darkened.

***** “Are you sure Eric is all right?” Jen asked as Garrett steered the houseboat from the slip. The roof blocked the early morning sun. The hundred-foot boat glided out of the dock. From this height, Jen could see the twinkling lights all along the shoreline of the Albemarle Sound. “Bel said she had Eric and was on her way back,” he smiled. “But she didn’t answer her phone when I called. I wanted to talk with him.” “The reception was really bad. Look, there’s nothing to worry about. Bel will keep him safe. You can talk with him when we return. Okay?” He nuzzled her. “What do you say we steal today just for ourselves?” Jen nodded even though she was worried about Eric. The last voice mail he’d left sounded so desperate. Until she saw him, Jen didn’t think she could relax. “I only want you thinking about me today, baby.” Garrett pressed a tender kiss on her forehead as the houseboat picked up speed. “This will be a first for me. Being out on the water in the sun and having a day all to myself. I want you all to myself.” Heat flashed over her and Jen decided to leave her concerns at the dock. She trusted Garrett and if he said Eric was safely in Bel’s custody then she believed him. The day would belong to them and she didn’t want to spoil it. “What about a nice quiet cove where we can anchor?” His gaze traveled over her body and a crooked grin lifted his lips. She recognized that look and blushed under his regard. She was glad she’d donned the bathing suit now hidden beneath the pair of shorts and t-shirt. A smile teased her lips and she tilted her head slightly in what she hoped was a seductive look. “What are you up to?” he asked as they cleared the buoys and started across the sound. Jen grinned and slowly unzipped the shorts. His stare widened and she could sense his growing excitement. 213

Sally Painter

She slipped the shorts down her hips, wiggling under the effort to pull them down. She let them fall to the floor. “A bathing suit?” he laughed. “And how long do you think I’m going to let you wear that?” She giggled and peeled off the t-shirt and stood in front of him watching the appreciative glint in his eyes. “You stole my heart the first time I saw you. Since then, you’ve captured my soul, Jen Ormand.” He gathered her in his arms. “Baby, you’re so beautiful I could look at you forever,” he whispered in her ear, sending tingles of excitement down her back. They stood underneath the covered deck as he guided the boat between buoys marking sandbars. They passed an occasional lone bald cypress jutting from the water and draped with an osprey nest clustered in its spindly limbs. A reminder that the deepest depth of the sound was only twenty feet. At last Garrett steered them into a cove that appeared to continue forever. Their intrusion frightened a pelican from its perch along the bank. Garrett steered the houseboat around the bend and chose a place to anchor. It was perfect. Hidden from the main thoroughfare, the cove was protected by a profuse forest of the surrounding swamplands. Bald cypress and gnarled undergrowth jutted out over the water’s edge. Jen felt safe in their private spot. “There, we’re anchored,” he said and turned to her. “We have it all to ourselves.” He cupped her face in his hands. All thoughts fell away. There was only him and the wonderful retreat he’d prepared for them. When Garrett had announced his plans for a getaway where they could have complete privacy, she had no idea he meant across the Sound in a secluded cove. It was so romantic. He claimed her mouth once more. Hot and demanding. She drank in his kiss, sensing the passion behind his touch held sadness. She broke from the kiss. “I want to make you my mate.” His voice cracked and his body tensed. Before she could respond, he lifted her into his arms and carried her around the deck bar. Jen was surprised to find a mattress in place of the deck chairs. He’d covered it with brown satin sheets and strewn rose petals over it. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed. “How did you manage all this without me knowing?” “I’m full of surprises. You don’t expect me to give away all my secrets, do you?” She grinned. “No.” “Will you, Jen? Will you be my eternal mate?” “Garrett,” she breathed. Her body was a riot of anticipation. “I want to be your mate,” she said, stroking his face with her hand. “Mating will require I become two people.” “What does that mean?” she laughed, tilting her head back to stare up into his eyes.

214

Reunited

“I literally become two people,” he said and let her legs swing free so her bare feet touched the floor. “I-I don’t understand, Garrett. How can you possibly become two people?” She leaned back in the loop of his arms, trying to gauge if he was teasing until she met the solemn look in his blue eyes. Her heartbeat quickened. “When a gargoyle mates with a human, it’s done by dividing in two. We make love as a threesome, only I will be two of that threesome. My baser self will separate and we will come, all three of us, at the same time.” “So this means anal—” He nodded, waiting for her response. “I find the idea erotic.” She smiled sheepishly. “To make love to two of you would be my greatest fantasy come true.” How was such a thing possible? “It can be done only once. I can never mate again. For gargoyles, mating is for eternity.” “I want to be with you forever.” She lifted her hand and stroked his face. “Will I become a gargoyle then?” she asked, wondering how it would feel to be a gargoyle. To be immortal. He nodded. “But there can only be one mating?” she asked. Again he nodded. “Then how can Starn and Bel no longer be mates?” “Bel is still mated to Starn. When he went rogue he betrayed her with other females. Gargoyles and human.” “So the disease made him do that? It controlled him?” “That’s what he claims. What they all claim.” A nervous tic pulsed in his jaw. Knowing how Starn angered him, she didn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t want to ruin their day together. Her heart went out to Bel, denied the one thing she wanted most, her mate. Jen hugged him. They stood wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time. “Come,” he said and released her to peel off his shirt. He leaned over to release his wings. “Hold on.” Jen clung to him as he lifted from the deck and sailed out from under the canopy. She squealed and wrapped her legs around his as they flew inches above the water. The daylight was glorious with the water sparkling in shards of glinting sunlight. A school of dolphins swam beneath them. She reached out to skim her hand near a fin. Garrett rolled onto his back and twirled in the air, skimming over the surface. Their laughter filled her ears.

215

Sally Painter

He held her closer, drifting over the water then up to buzz the houseboat. Slowing their flight, he returned them to the deck and Jen slid down his length, enjoying the friction of her bathing suit against his pants. “I still can’t get over being in daylight,” he said. “I’m so excited, Garrett. I feel like a bride before her wedding.” Suddenly, his demeanor changed. “What’s wrong?” “If we mate,” he said, “there is the danger you could contract the virus.” “Maybe the Reconciler is immune,” she said and lifted onto tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. He bent over and received the peck on his lips instead. She refused to think about a virus that could split them apart the same way it had Bel and Starn. “As long as you realize this will be forever and for a gargoyle, that is eternity.” “What if you grow tired of me?” she asked, “Never.” He nuzzled her neck. “Do you still want to be my mate?” His hot breath fanned her ear. “More than anything, Garrett.” He covered her lips with his. The kiss was different from the previous one. Sadness no longer clung to its tender touch. Images of lying entwined in his arms, naked, and with another Garrett lying beside her made Jen quiver with delight. Garrett broke from the kiss and stared down at her. “You’ll transform after the ritual consummation. Usually within five minutes, no longer. “Can we start?” Jen encircled his neck with her arms and pressed a kiss to his mouth. His tongue teased her lips and she opened to receive it. Anticipation prickled over her and released a flow of warmth to soak her bikini briefs. She twisted her tongue around his, her heart swelling with so much love she couldn’t contain it. Her pulse drummed frantically in her ears. “We have plenty of time. I’d like to save it for the last part of our day.” Energy radiated from him and a sudden feeling of expectancy quickened her pulse. Waiting for that moment would be excruciatingly erotic. “I want you, hot and sweating for me. I want to lick your cock like a lollipop.” Her words fell in short puffs against his lips. Garrett unsnapped the swimsuit top and the material relaxed as the straps slid down her arms. Jen quickly shed it, dropping it to the deck. His hands skimmed the top of her bikini briefs before dipping underneath the material. A gentle breeze stroked her breasts as he sank to his knees and the silky fabric slid down her legs. She stepped from them and he encircled her with his arms, cupping her bare ass.

216

Reunited

A riot of sensations thundered through Jen as she pressed her pussy to his mouth. He ran his tongue down her length, and then thrust it between her labia in a teasing lick. At that moment she claimed him as her mate, not needing any ritual. Garrett belonged to her. Jen raked her hands through his hair, digging and threading her fingers into the long strands. He lifted his head and let his gaze travel up her torso. Straightening, his stare locked with hers. He was so handsome with the wind lifting his hair off those bronzed shoulders. Her breath caught in her throat. He picked her up and Jen found herself being lowered onto the mattress. Satin caressed her. Opening her eyes, she met the fierce hunger in his. Her breasts were rosy peaks of white against the tan line that dipped just above the areolas. He imagined her hands stroking him and let his gaze move over her, caressing her as his hands soon would. Garrett groaned and tightened his hand around his cock, moving it faster and faster. Hot pre-cum smeared over his hand. “Let me see your pussy,” he whispered, but she shook her head and teased him by rolling her closed legs from side to side while exposing only her buttocks to him. “Spread your legs and let me see your pussy,” his voice rasped with desire. A soft blush washed over her face and slowly she opened her legs. His stare gravitated to her shaven pussy. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he said in a low throaty sound. She dipped her hand to splay the lips of her pussy open so he could see her fully. Brilliant sunlight glowed all around them and a breeze rushed past them, capturing her hair in a teasing swirl across her face. Her nipples puckered in response and his breath grew ragged. He wanted to touch her. “My beautiful Jen.” She lay in front of him, naked, hot and dripping with the juices of her arousal. The aroma of her sex filled his nostrils. She was all his. He longed to touch her shaven pussy, knowing it would be soft and pliable beneath her fingertips. Garrett sniffed again and her perfume set a wildfire blazing through him, teasing him until he could no longer suppress the fervor. Her eyes glazed with desire. Garrett kneeled between her legs, gliding his hand over her silky thighs. With a satisfied purr, he lowered his face to her pussy. The sweet tartness greeted him as his tongue rolled over her swollen flesh. He lapped at her juices, licking the full length of her luscious pink slit. She moaned and writhed on the pallet. He lifted his head and his breath hung in his chest when he met the smoldering fire in her eyes. “I want to sink my cock inside your sweet little cunt,” he rasped.

217

Sally Painter

Instead, he leaned down to flick his tongue over her clit, thrusting two fingers into her opening. Her moan coiled around him. He paused to look down at her and was rewarded with the sexy vision of her dragging her tongue over her lower lip. “Oh, Garrett.” She gazed up at him from hooded eyes. Hot juices coated his fingers and he knew she was close to climax. When she groaned with that little catch in her voice, Garrett thought he’d go insane with need. He sensed the orgasm rising in her like a tidal wave. When she touched the tip of her tongue to those rosy plump lips, he closed his eyes with a groan. Sweet paradise, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. He was close to orgasm. Garrett eased her onto her stomach and then to her knees. He grasped her by the hips and tilted her perfect round ass into the air. His breath rushed from him when he spread her buttocks and dipped his head to lick and twist his tongue around her sweet puckered opening, teasing and probing her anus while rubbing his fingers over her clit. Her moan was muffled as she rocked back and forth and Garrett could sense the fiery sensations teasing her pussy. He licked her while quickening the strokes over her bundle of swollen heat. She writhed under his touch and he knew she was close to orgasm. He plunged his fingers into her opening and turned them to massage her Gspot. He found it immediately and her body tensed. She cried out and he could feel the spasms clutching her, tightening her muscles around his fingers. “Oh my God,” she breathed. Slowly he pulled his fingers from her and cupped her pussy. He planted kisses along the dip of her spine. Her flesh was salty with perspiration. She leaned forward and lay down on the pallet. His cock throbbed and it took all of his willpower not to spread her legs and sink it into her sweet little cunt. He clenched his jaw and watched as she rolled onto her back and smiled up at him. He felt her emotions as his own. He’d never felt so much love. His eyes stung with unshed tears. Jen loved him. “Jen,” he choked. She met his look and it felt as though their souls entwined as one. She knew his thoughts and felt the love he had for her. “Let me taste you,” she said and leaned forward. Her hand closed around his cock and she palmed the tip. Excitement pumped through him each time she massaged the crown and when she guided him to her mouth, a surge of energy shot through him. She took his full length into her mouth and down her throat, cupping his balls in her hands. She eased him in and out. There was no sweeter feel than her lips closing around him as he slowly fucked her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive tip, driving him wild with pleasure. “Oh baby, that feels so good.” She moaned and moved to cup his buttocks.

218

Reunited

“I’m going to come if you keep doing that.” He started to pull from her but she grasped the base of his shaft. Leaning forward, she licked the length of his cock and paused at the tip to flick her tongue over the crown. She made tiny circles around it and lapped up the tiny pearl of liquid seeping from the slit. Wings and stone, he couldn’t take much more. He’d never been so thoroughly teased. “I think you need to fuck me,” she said, closing her eyes. Long lashes dusted her cheeks. He choked on the words he wanted to whisper to her. His dick was so hard his balls were drawn tight against him. She moved to lie back down on the pallet. “Come here.” She crooked a long-nailed finger. Garrett wrapped his fingers around his cock, stroking it up and down as she slipped her hands over her abdomen to her pussy. She spread the outer lips and plunged her fingers inside her opening. The image of her lying naked with the sun washing her in brilliant light seared in his mind forever. “Jen baby.” He couldn’t resist any longer and kneeled between her legs, brushing her hands aside to replace her strokes with his tongue. She writhed under his touch. Garrett lifted his head, spreading her legs to receive him. He pressed the tip of his cock into the outer rim. Sensitive and throbbing, the crown radiated with sensations that raced through him. She tilted her hips to better receive him. He lingered outside the silky folds. He was so aroused, if he plunged his cock inside her channel, he’d come the moment her tight pussy closed around him. Deliberately he cupped her rosy-tipped breasts, kneading and massaging then rolled her hardened nipples between his fingers and squeezed. He inched his cock into her. The fleshy walls of her pussy stretched until at last he was nestled deep inside her. Waves of pleasure rippled over him. Garrett didn’t move, enjoying the incredible sensation of being buried inside her. Streaks of heat surged up his cock. He must take her now. There would be no more waiting. She was his. He moved in and out of her in a steady rhythm as sultry and lazy as the summer day. He loved the way it felt being inside her. Her panting set his heart pounding harder and the way she looked up at him through hooded eyes, excited him to the core. He quickened his movements, supporting himself with his hands planted on either side of her head. Long dark curls fanned around her and he longed to bury his face in their seductive waves. She rolled her hips in time with his thrusts and he looked down at her. She gasped for breath as she neared climax. “Garrett,” she cried out and the walls of her pussy squeezed in a sudden orgasm. His breath rushed from him. Her spasms gripped him and tugged him closer to orgasm. His cock throbbed, wet with her cream. She wrapped her legs around him and the new position eased him

219

Sally Painter

deeper inside her. A primal need to fuck her overpowered him and took control. Mindlessly, he thrust harder, chasing the orgasm. Sweat rolled down his back and he flexed his muscles, rutting into her. The orgasm shot through him and his seed erupted. He reared back and released a groan. A groan so full of satisfaction, he smiled. The orgasm wouldn’t release him and he ground into her. Jen lowered her legs from around his waist and lay glistening with perspiration in the bright sunlight. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered and leaned down to brush his lips over hers. The sun beat down on his legs and he realized they’d moved from underneath the canopy and partially into the late morning sun. He eased from her and the breeze carried her faint moan past him and over the water. “Garrett, sleep with me,” she said in a sultry voice and reached up to him. He collapsed beside her on the pallet. Her perfume was steamy from the summer heat and wrapped around him like an invisible blanket when she curled into him, nuzzling his neck. “This is paradise.” His voice closed around the words. “You are everything to me, Jen.” “I love you too,” she smiled and stroked his face. “This is bliss,” he yawned and tightened his arms around her. Garrett drifted off to sleep. His dreams were filled with scenes of demons and gargoyles in the final battle. Rogue gargoyles and Clisneach warriors fought side by side. The world was a mass of fire and smoke as the demons poured out of an opening in the ground. The Abyss. Acrid smoke choked him as he killed another demon and it flamed in front of him. “Garrett!” Jen screamed. He turned to find her standing in the middle of the fight. A demon lunged for her. Claws lashed out. She was helpless to defend herself. “Jen!” Garrett couldn’t believe it. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t the Reconciler. He jerked awake, panting. “God.” He swallowed past the dryness in his throat and reached for her, but the pallet was empty. “Jen,” he yelled, grabbing his pants and pulling them on as he stumbled across the upper deck. “Jen?” Panic set in. What if rogues had found them and stolen her from the boat.

220

Reunited

Chapter Twenty-One Garrett grabbed the rails and jumped down the steps, bounding onto the lower deck, ready to fight. No one was there. The door leading to the salon was open and he heard her moaning. “Jen!” He burst inside. “What?” She was stooped down and peering into the bottom cabinet. “Got it,” she said and pulled the large platter from inside the kitchen cabinet. “I-I was worried when I woke up and found you were gone.” Garrett released his breath, relieved she was safe. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she smiled, placing the dish on the counter. The smell of sautéed onions wafted across the room to him. “I got hungry and thought I’d cook us some lunch.” She had gathered her hair into a ponytail and for a moment she looked more like a teenager than the powerful Reconciler. She’d donned a pair of shorts and tank top, minus a bra. Garrett watched the way her breasts moved underneath the thin material when she dumped the strainer of pasta onto the platter. Her nipples poked beneath the material and his fingers itched to touch them. The steam encircled her, giving an ethereal appearance, and for the first time he saw her aura. A brilliant green and gold shimmering several feet around her. As the steam disappeared, so did the colors. He padded across the room to her. “So you cook too?” he asked, encircling his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She giggled and squirmed in his arms. “I’m a damn good cook,” she laughed and moved to pour the spaghetti sauce over the noodles. “Would you open a bottle of wine?” she asked and set the steaming pot in the sink. “Sure,” he said, feeling lighthearted. Jen was safe and they were in their own little world until sunset. Once they’d mated, she would become a gargoyle. She would not die. She would fulfill the prophecy and they would win the battle. Tomorrow they would decide where to spend the rest of eternity. All was right with his world. It was such a simple plan. He grabbed a bottle from the wine rack and turned the corkscrew. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He felt very clever in having found a way to circumvent the Fates.

221

Sally Painter

“It smells delicious,” he said and she leaned over him to retrieve the silverware. He nuzzled her neck. “You’re delicious.” “Don’t get me sidetracked, I’m starving.” She pivoted from him and carried the plates to the table. The cork popped from the bottle and Garrett scooped up two goblets. He joined her at the table, but slid his chair closer to hers. “I can’t wait to taste it.” He picked up a fork and twirled it in the noodles. He started to shove it into his mouth but paused. She sat watching him and at that moment the last thing he was thinking about was food. Slowly he held the fork up to her and she opened her mouth. He slid it inside, watching how her lips closed around the fork. When he pulled the fork from her mouth, he leaned over to kiss her. “Stop that,” she said and gently pushed him away, turning her attention to the plate of spaghetti. “I’m really hungry.” “So am I,” he said in a low voice. “I mean for spaghetti. It’s a given I’m always hungry for you,” she said, taking another bite. “Here’s to hurrying up with lunch and getting to dessert,” he said, holding his goblet up in a toast. She smiled at him and shoveled more into her mouth. Garrett took a sip of wine. “I cooked this lunch just for you, you know. You should eat it.” She pursed her lips together in a pout. “At least pretend you like it.” “Oh, I like it, baby, it’s just that I like eating you a lot better.” He watched the blush move over her face and when she lifted her gaze to him, Garrett dropped the goblet and tugged her into his lap. “You really aren’t going to eat my lunch, are you?” she giggled when he tightened his arms around her. “Sure I am,” he said and twirled the spaghetti onto his fork the plunged it into his mouth. The spices burst in his mouth and he closed his eyes, savoring it as he chewed. “Good, isn’t it?” She gobbled down another bite. “Uhm.” Garrett swallowed and took a sip of wine. “It’s fantastic. The best I’ve ever had.” She took another bite and nodded, wiggling in his lap. His cock hardened. She lifted the goblet to her mouth, but paused to give him a raised eyebrow look. “I can’t help it. Eating fantastic food with a sexy vixen on my lap is arousing.” She winked at him and took a deep gulp of wine. She set the glass down and turned to him. “Come here.” He held the napkin up as though to wipe her mouth but when she leaned in, he covered her mouth with his.

222

Reunited

Jen was a riot of sensations when she opened her mouth to his. Red wine and spices greeted her. All thoughts of food fled. She moaned against their kiss and locked her arms behind his neck. Large hands moved over her back and underneath her tank top. He shifted and she pressed against the table as he slid his hand around to cup her breast. Garrett broke from the kiss and stared down at her. “Now you see what Italian food does to me.” “I’ll make sure we have it every meal,” she said and tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. “Let’s go swimming,” she said, and before he could react, slipped off his lap and ran through the salon, stripping her top over her head and unzipping her shorts. He grabbed her before she could step onto the lower deck and released his wings to carry her out over the water. “You want to swim?” he asked and dived toward the water. She squealed when her feet grazed the surface, but instead of plunging into the water he flew higher. He landed on the upper deck and retracted his wings. For now there would be no swimming. She stood panting as he doffed his pants and then pulled her down onto the pallet with him. “You make me so happy,” he whispered, unbinding her hair. “I never want today to end.” She shook her head, letting her hair cascade over her shoulders. He reached over to tuck a strand behind her ear. She lay down on the pallet. “I’ve waited all eternity for you,” he said and separated her legs so he could lie between them. He kissed her pussy, sucking one side of the satiny labia into his mouth and then releasing. He must have her as his double would when they mated. He lifted onto his knees again. Her wanton moan made him hard. Garrett leaned forward to rub the tip of his cock over her pussy, brushing outside her opening, teasing and enjoying the way she rotated her hips. He longed to fuck her. “Do I have to beg?” Her tongue pressed against her lips, drawing the moisture over them before slipping it back into her mouth. Garrett helped her onto her knees. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he sat back on his heels. His dick couldn’t get any harder. Edgy energy twisted and coiled around its length. He reached for the lubricant he’d hidden underneath the pillow and hastily rubbed it over his cock. She gasped when he rubbed the cool liquid into her but instead of pulling from him, lifted her hips higher. He’d dreamed of taking her this way and even though he’d feel everything his double would during the mating, Garrett decided he would be the first to take her anally. Garrett sucked in air, struggling against the excitement rising fast and furious. He eased his cock into her. Her anus was tighter than he anticipated. Her muscles tensed

223

Sally Painter

and closed around his dick, heightened his pleasure. His body was primed and ready to explode in that final release, so he paused to let her muscles relax around him. Slowly he inched deeper, pausing each time to let her relax around him. Garrett shook as he resisted the throbbing in his body. It wouldn’t take much to bring him to orgasm and spill his hot cream inside her. He glided his hands around her waist and dipped between silky thighs. Her pussy was warm and wet. He toyed with her clit then slipped two fingers into her opening, knowing the sensations of his cock inside her anus stimulated all other regions. She moved and he moved with her, mindful of the tender channel he’d claimed. Jen released a deep breath, she tried to relax the muscles around his cock, but the anxiousness trembled in her. Garrett took his time. Each thrust was gentle and restrained until it felt as though his full length was now deep inside her. The pressure set a series of quickened pulses flashing to her clit. It all felt so primal and delicious. Heat stimulated sensitive areas and he surprised her when he slid his hand around her waist and dipped between her legs. Slowly he massaged her clit and Jen moved slightly under the strokes, mindful any sudden movement might be harmful. The anal stimulation intensified and created new sensations. She panted, drawing in the hot air whipping over the deck. “Oh Garrett…it feels…so good,” she said breathlessly, and arched backward to release a lusty groan. Moving against his finger, aware he rocked in time with her, she gave over to the moment as they moved as one. She wanted more and quickened the rhythm. He pressed his chest to her back and rode her. When he pulled his cock out a few inches and then pressed it deep again, streaks of pleasure shot to her clit. His cock massaged the inner walls of her anus and she clenched her muscles around it. A rapid series of heated twinges raced to her groin and she gasped for air. She longed to make him come but wanted to tease him. She must drive him crazy with need the same way he was her. Jen rode the waves of erotic stimulation of his cock filling her anus. His breath was like a furnace blast against her neck. Frenetic energy teased her, rising up her spine and then retreating. Garrett held on to her hips, grinding into her, with his low grunting sounds vibrating in her ears. Their bodies stuck together with sweat, writhing to the sexual energy coiling through them. His long strands of dampened hair swung in front of her. Jen rolled her hips and he tightened his arms around her so he could move with her. Every nerve-ending was electrified to life. Jen had never felt such intense pleasure. She groaned, the lustful sound echoing over the cove. Pulses raced from her nipples to her clit, setting her senses into overload. How could anything feel so wonderful? He pushed deeper into her and waves of delicious tingling and heated streaks scorched her, driving her to the edge of orgasm.

224

Reunited

She leaned back into him. She quickened her movements and he stroked her clit faster. Unleashed energy twisted and entwined them. Anxious quivers shot through her in a rising wave of need. “Garrett!” she cried out as the walls of her pussy contracted. The orgasm seized her so hard it felt as though the muscles in her anus clamped around his cock. She reared back against him, grinding and panting as the energy burst free. Brilliant light blasted against her shuttered eyes. He pressed his cock deeper into her ass. The frenetic energy wouldn’t let go, drawing her body rigid with wave after wave of delight rushing in molten fire between her legs. Garrett tensed and his body spasmed as he too came. He released a throaty growl that grew into a deafening roar. Hot cum spilled inside her. Panting, he continued to ride the wave of release, throbbing inside her. Jen rested on her forearms, leaning forward. “No man…no gargoyle will ever have you, Jen. You’re mine forever.” Garrett brushed the hair from her back and caressed her back with his hand. They stayed joined together as the throbbing of their bodies eased. Neither spoke again until he’d eased from inside her and lay down on the pallet with her. Jen curled against him. Garrett had never been so fully satisfied. He was spent and basked in the sweet afterglow of their lovemaking. “That was incredible. I’ve never had so many pleasure zones teased,” she sighed. “Are we mated?” she asked. “Not yet,” he answered in a deep voice. “We will make love with me inside you and my double just as I was inside your ass. “I don’t know how much more pleasure I can take,” she sighed, a dreamy murmur riding her voice. “It was so deliciously intense.” They fell asleep in each other’s arms and when they awoke it was late afternoon. Jen decided to go for a swim and jumped into the water first. “Come in with me,” she called and he dived in after her. Garrett was surprised how warm the water was and surfaced in the circle of her arms. “I love you, Jen,” he said and covered her mouth with his. It was a long deep kiss. They were naked and wet with the sun warming them. He had indeed found paradise.

***** Jen awoke and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She’d been sleeping so soundly. After their swim, she’d joined Garrett in the shower. Their vow to

225

Sally Painter

hold the mating ceremony next was quickly forgotten. Still damp from the shower, they tumbled into bed for a quickie before drifting off to sleep entwined in each other’s arms. She sat up in the bed and glanced at Garrett sleeping with his back to her. What time was it? She glanced at the nightstand. The alarm clock glowed in the dim light. It was almost six o’clock. Her pulse spiked. It would be dark in three hours and this day would be over. Their time would soon end and she must face an unknown destiny. Jen didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not when they still had a few hours left in their fantasy time together. Garrett’s deep breathing drew her attention. She stared at the way his long hair fell over the pillow and couldn’t resist stroking it. It was silky and coarse. Quite different from a woman’s hair. Would they finally mate when he woke up? Why hadn’t he mated with her earlier? What was he waiting for? As though sensing she was awake, Garrett stirred beside her and turned over, stretching his arms over his head. “What are you worrying about?” he asked, stroking her arm. “We only have a few more hours left,” she said, trying to force the reality away from her. “I know. I’ve saved the best for last. I’m going to make you my mate, Jen Ormand, and you’ll scream my name when I take you,” he said. Jen swallowed past the burning knot forming in her throat. “Here? Now?” she asked, holding her breath, hoping the answer was yes. “Anywhere you want.” His gaze scorched her flesh each place it touched. “I liked our love nest on the top deck,” she said. The thought of making love to two of him stirred her imagination and made her wet. “What? No dinner first?” he teased. “I just want you. I want to be your mate.” “We left everything in place. Come,” he said and stood from the bed, holding his hand out to her. “Why not go on up and make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab a bottle of champagne and some glasses and join you in a moment.” Jen retrieved the robe he’d packed for her and cinched it at the waist. She padded down the hall, pausing to watch him as he opened the refrigerator door. It was an image of such a mundane task. Its normalcy tricked her into believing they could be like any couple. She mentally shook her head and marched outside and up the steps. They would never be a normal couple. They would be immortal. Her pulse quickened. She settled onto the pallet and untied her robe, letting it gape open just enough to excite him. She heard the glasses clinking before he emerged on the stairs, carrying the bottle in one hand and the flutes in the other. Bare-chested and barefoot, he came over to her and kneeled down on the pallet, handing her a glass. He poured the champagne and set the bottle on the floor.

226

Reunited

“To my lovely Jen, my wife, my mate for all eternity,” he grinned and Jen couldn’t recall when she’d seen him so full of light. He practically glowed with happiness. “To my handsome husband, my mate,” she said and lifted her glass to his. The clinking sound filled her ears and she raised the goblet to her lips, watching him as he took a sip. Her throat tingled as the champagne raced over her tongue and she swallowed it. They had begun the mating ritual. “Atabira, immortemeum, emmatrium, gargoyle,” he said, taking the glass from her. “That is ancient gargoyle. A language we no longer use. It means reborn, immortal, eternal mates, gargoyles.” “Emmatrium,” she repeated. “My Jen,” he said and tugged her into his arms, covering her mouth with his. Jen clung to him, anxious to mate with him. Slowly he broke from the kiss and lifted one of her legs to press his lips into her flesh. “Silky long legs,” he whispered and scattered kisses over her calf, sending a riotous pounding through her. Pausing, he stared down at her. She caught her breath, not knowing what to expect but sensing it was time for him to become two men. Her body tingled. Suddenly, she was ready for more pleasant stroking and kissing. He lowered her leg and stood from the pallet. Jen ran her tongue over moist lips, hotter than she’d ever been. Her stare transfixed on the vision of maleness in front of her. Knowing the pleasure he could bring her and that it would somehow be doubled sent fiery streaks to her groin. Anticipation seized her when he wrapped his hand around his erection and stroked himself. She wanted to feel him inside her and sucked on her lower lip, imagining how she would take him in her mouth and taste him once more. “Garrett,” she said, reaching for him. “I want to feel you inside me, now.” He shook his head. She whimpered. “I must divide first,” he said, drawing his hand up and down his thick shaft. She swallowed the heat licking her throat. “You’re torturing me,” Jen panted. When he released the grip on his cock, she knew it was time. Without a word, he stretched forward and arched his back as though to release his wings. Instead, hard muscles bulged and his face contorted into the gargoyle panther with his eyes turning catlike. He twisted and reared back. His mouth opened with a low feral growl rasping from him. Excitement pulsed through her. Unsure what to expect, she watched the gargoyle recede and his facial muscles relax back into his handsome features. She blinked. Was that it?

227

Sally Painter

His forehead furrowed. He closed his eyes and hunched forward, but again, nothing happened. Tears welled in her eyes, as she watched him try a third time. Jen scrambled to her feet, the robe blowing around her as she rushed over to him. “Garrett, stop.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Stop, baby.” She stroked his face and he bowed his head. “No!” he growled and turned his back to her. Uncertain what to say or do, Jen stared at him. She shared his frustration and disappointment. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll create our own mating ritual. Ours should be different. The mating of the Reconciler and her Protector. This entire day has been our mating ritual. Think about it. Why should the mating of the Reconciler and her Protector be like any other mating?” She tried to still the quaking in her voice but a sob bubbled past her attempt. “That’s not the reason,” he said and turned to face her. “What I’ve done, making love to a human, is against the Council’s mandate. But making love to the Reconciler is forbidden by the Fates.” He turned and tugged her to him, tightening fingers around her upper arms. “Destiny has blocked us from mating. “I was arrogant, Jen. I thought I could escape the laws set forth in the Legend. I wanted to claim you as mine. And I wanted to believe we could mate. That I could make everything okay if only we mated. If only you were a gargoyle instead of the Reconciler.” His voice broke off. “Garrett—” “You don’t understand. It has to be part of my transformation as your Protector. Like my wings changing colors and the sunlight no longer turning me to stone.” He glanced at his arm. “Even my Clisneach seal changed blue. So it makes sense the Fates must assure the Reconciler remains who she is and not transformed into a gargoyle.” He bowed his head and turned from her again, gripping the railing. “I believed transforming you into a gargoyle would protect you. If only I could change that part of the Legend… I was wrong.” “Was that the only reason you wanted me for your mate?” “What?” he looked at her with pain piercing his eyes. “No. No. You know that’s not true.” He hung his head. “Good. Because I don’t need to be a gargoyle to be your mate, Garrett. I already feel as though I am,” she sobbed, unable to stop the tears. He glanced sideways at her and shook his head as though she had no idea what they’d lost. “Please,” she sniffed. “It’s the only way a gargoyle can be mated with a human, Jen. We’ll forever remain Reconciler and Protector, never mates.”

228

Reunited

“Don’t say that. Can’t we perform the ritual gargoyles use when they mate with each other?” He shook his head. “You’ve not noticed it, I’m sure, but whenever mates are together, their tattoos glow.” “I saw Starn’s glowing when he was at the house.” “That’s because he was near Bel, his mate. A gargoyle mating is complex. It is not like a human marriage. We truly become one mind and one heart for all eternity. We hear each other’s thoughts and we feel what the other feels. Gargoyles touch their tattoo seals together at the precise moment along with ancient incantations. The seals bond them. You must be a gargoyle for that kind of mating to work. I’m sorry, there’s no other way for us.” “Garrett…” She tried to console him but he turned from her. “We’re heading back. You need to get dressed.” She wanted to talk to him and followed him into the bedroom. “Please talk to me. We can work this out,” she said. “How? How can we work this out, Jen? It’s over. There’s no way for us to mate. What I feel for you. What you feel for me doesn’t mate us. There’s only one way for a gargoyle and a human to mate.” He pulled on a dark t-shirt and grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. “Garrett, please,” she whispered. “I can’t, Jen. I’m sorry. I need to get us back to the marina.” He left the stateroom. “But―” He closed the door behind him, mumbling something about weighing anchor. Sniffing, determined not to cry any more, Jen chose a pair of dark slacks and a black tank top, this time donning a bra. Her hands trembled as she pulled the shirt to her waist. The beautiful day they’d shared slipped away but she clung to the hope there would be other days for them. “What do you mean missing?” Garrett’s voice boomed from the salon. “That’s impossible. No, she said they had retrieved the kid and she was on her way back to the marina and would be staying at your place for the day. Where did you look? Okay, we’re on our way back.” “Garrett?” Jen entered the room and found him standing near the door. His face was drawn, seeming to age him. “What’s—” “Bel and the kid are missing. So are the two gargs who were with her. We definitely have to leave.” “Oh no. What happened?” she asked. Dread churned in her stomach. “I’m not sure.” He started the engine. Had demons captured them? She knew the answer. There had to be a way to save them. She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He leaned over and

229

Sally Painter

planted a tender kiss on her forehead and then pressed the button to retrieve the anchor. He could steer the houseboat from inside the salon, but he started for the door. Jen didn’t go after him, realizing he wanted to be alone. She watched him climb the stairs to the second deck. “Oh, Garrett.”

***** The news of Bel and Eric missing had left her dazed. The glorious honeymoon disintegrated around her. She mourned not being Garrett’s gargoyle mate. Why hadn’t it worked? She felt inadequate, as though she had somehow botched it. The memory of their lovemaking replayed over and over in her mind. Guilt thundered through her as she contemplated the future. She hadn’t transformed into a gargoyle. She would continue to age and Garrett would remain as he had been for however long he’d lived. How would he cope with her aging and dying? The more she thought about it the sadder she became. It felt as though her heart shattered into tiny shards and sliced through her. Bowing her head, she sobbed. She couldn’t do anything about it. There were no second chances. She should join him on the deck and at least try to console him—somehow. The sound from her cell phone pierced through the quietness and she looked around the salon. She spotted it on the kitchen bar and hurried to answer it, hoping it was Eric. Maybe he had somehow escaped the demons. Maybe Bel had managed to free them. By the time she grabbed the phone the call had rolled over to voice mail. She tapped the button to reveal the caller’s ID and Averyton Sheriff Department flashed on the screen. Her pulse quickened and she was relieved she hadn’t answered it. The email icon flashed and she rushed to open the message. Her heart sank when she recognized the search robot she’d set for referencing Reconciler. In the body of the email were three hyperlinks. Jen scrolled through them. Her breath rushed from her as though she’d been hit in the stomach when she saw the one titled, Death of the Reconciler. The words glared at her—nothing she’d read had referenced dying. She clicked on the link and the page opened. And the Reconciler shall give her life to save the gargoyle warrior. Her sacrifice of pure love will lead to the salvation of two worlds, human and gargoyle. Jen’s ears thundered as the realization hit her full force. She was going to die!

***** Garrett steered the houseboat past the last buoy and gauged the distance to their slip. “The sun is nearly set,” Jen said. Those were the first words she’d spoken to him since joining him topside. He didn’t know how to reassure her. Their mating had failed.

230

Reunited

Bel and Eric were missing and very likely captured by Tracker. Hell, he needed someone to reassure him. “We need to go to Starn’s club,” he said as they docked and two gargoyles waiting on the dock tied the boat off. Nodding, Jen wondered if he knew what the prophecy said about the Reconciler’s fate. Her fate. Surely not since he attempted to mate with her. Was that why he’d wanted her? Had it worked, she’d now be immortal and impossible to kill. Her heart was heavy. Was that the only reason he’d wanted her for his mate? He’d said it wasn’t. It no longer mattered. There was no future for her. She snorted. How ironic after all these years she was free of fear only to have a more powerful terror intrude upon the happiness she’d found with Garrett. Her role as Reconciler was to die. How could she give up her life? It was too much to expect of anyone. Yet she looked at Garrett, and knew she would gladly give her life for his.

***** The door creaked open and Starn glanced up just as Garrett and Jen entered. He moved around the bar to greet them. “Just look at that black hair and those broad shoulders.” One of the servers fanned herself with a napkin. Jen tensed at the female garg’s blatant swooning. Didn’t she realize Garrett and she were together? “Baby, he can sit on my roof any day.” “He’s fucking gorgeous.” She clenched her jaw and tried to ignore them by glancing up at Garrett. He didn’t appear to hear their comments. He glared at Starn who was moving around the bar on his way toward them. “Women. They always fall at his feet. Wish I knew how he did it,” the bouncer said. “Shut the chatter and close up,” Starn called over his shoulder. “We’re not opening tonight. We’re going to find Bel. My team is ready to leave,” Starn said as he hurried across the room to greet them. “When did you discover she was missing?” Garrett asked. “Like I said, right before I called you.” Tense lines creased Starn’s tanned face. “But she called and said she had two gargs with her and they were in process of bringing the Dolby kid back here. That was before sunrise. Around four-thirty. They were going to stay on your boat. Why didn’t you check to see if she was there?” Starn visibly bristled under Garrett’s accusatory tone. He straightened his shoulders. “She never said anything to me about staying over. She knew she could but I didn’t know her plans. Is the kid the one wanted for murdering—” “He’s innocent,” Jen interrupted.

231

Sally Painter

“Isn’t everyone?” he sneered. “None of my team have seen her or the two gargs who accompanied her. She’s not answering her phone,” Starn said. “When was the last time you saw her?” Garrett demanded. Jen placed her hand on his chest and he glanced down at her. “Late last night. I just thought she was holed up somewhere pouting,” Starn said. “What would she be pouting about?” Garrett tightened his fists by his sides. Jen sensed all his muscles tense as he poised for a fight. “We had an argument. Look, she just can’t accept destiny, that’s all.” “You son of bitch!” Garrett grabbed Starn by the shirt. “What have you done to my sister?” “Shit, man. I’ve not done a damn thing to her.” Using his good hand, Starn tried to pry Garrett’s fingers from around his shirt. “I’m the one who called you, remember?” “Are you back together?” Garrett asked between clenched teeth. Jen watched the rage harden his features into those of a panther. Her pulse spiked. “That’s none of your business but the answer is no.” Garrett growled and released him with a shove. The force sent Starn flying across the room. The gargoyles sitting on the stools jumped out of the way and Jen winced when Starn slammed into the bar. His casted hand crashed against the counter and his six-foot-something body plowed through the stacked glasses. He slid to the floor and slumped over with a groan. Garrett’s face returned to normal. “I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to Jen. “I have to find my sister. Let’s go.” He grabbed Jen’s hand but she glanced over her shoulder at Starn. “You bastard,” Starn spat after him. “Bel belongs with me. She’s my mate.” Garrett stopped but Jen touched his arm, sensing the rage boiling inside him. Of all the things for Starn to say…pain sliced through her. “We have to find Bel,” she whispered and his muscles relaxed beneath her touch. Garrett nodded and they left the club. Once outside, Jen paused and he turned to her, a questioning look transforming the angry scowl on his face. The day’s heat lifted from the earth as sticky humidity. Sadness slammed into her. The day was falling under darkness, taking all her hopes of spending eternity with Garrett with it. “This isn’t the way to settle your differences.” She grabbed his arm, hoping her calming energy would soothe his anger. “Who said I wanted to settle things? I want to kill the fucking rogue!” he spat. Jen released him. Suddenly the path was so clear to her. In that instant she knew what she must do to reconcile the gargoyles, but it meant she couldn’t accompany Garrett any farther. The realization tore through her like a jagged blade. This would probably be the last time she saw him. Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t want to die.

232

Reunited

“This isn’t going to find Bel and Eric. You need Starn’s help.” A scene flashed across her mind and she saw Bel being led from a warehouse, hands tied behind her back and then shoved into the back of a SUV. The vision faded as quickly as it had appeared. “I can find them on my own. The sun will be set in a few minutes and when it does my troops can—” “It isn’t right, Garrett,” she interrupted. She must tell him where Bel was, but first he needed to understand about Starn and what she planned to do. This was not about choice but something greater than either of them. “What’s not right?” He looked at her with worry lines creasing his forehead. “The way you treat Starn. He’s helped me—us.” “He didn’t do it for you or for me.” “But he did it. Without him and his troops the demons would have captured us. We owe Starn. What you just did to him was—” “Look, baby. Starn is who he is. I can’t do anything about that.” “Have you ever stopped to consider maybe the reason you’re so angry with him is because you’re trying to control something that can’t be controlled? Don’t you understand what’s going on here? Most of the gargoyles have transformed. How many uninfected remain?” He shook his head. “Too few,” she answered. “You can’t stop the demons without Starn and those like him.” He stared at her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t do what you’re asking me to do, Jen. Even if you are the Reconciler, I can’t do it.” A tic pulsed in his jaw. “What makes you hate Starn so much, Garrett? Is it just what he did to Bel or is it because he was your closest friend and you couldn’t save him?” “I don’t have time for this,” he said and turned from her but Jen grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her. “And now you’re worried the same thing is happening to you. You blame yourself for Starn and you’re blaming yourself for what didn’t happen between us.” His skin flushed crimson. “I have to find Bel. I’ll see you back at the boat,” he clipped. “No.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Jen, please, we’ll discuss this later.” He looked about them as though he wanted to escape. “I was never supposed to be a gargoyle, Garrett. That’s why we weren’t allowed to mate.” “You don’t know that.” He shook his head. “I did some research about the Reconciler, Garrett.” 233

Sally Painter

“You told me, baby.” “What I didn’t tell you was I found out what my role is. I know what happens to me. I-I die.” His eyes clouded with pain and she steeled herself against the emotions threatening to destroy her composure. She clenched her jaw. “That isn’t going to happen!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Do you hear me? I’m not going to let that happen.” His eyes reddened with tears. “Like you weren’t going to allow Bel to be hurt or Starn to change?” “Stop.” His voice choked off and he bowed his head. “Just stop. It doesn’t have to happen. If you stay in the houseboat, you’ll be safe.” “Garrett,” she whispered and reached up to cradle his face in her hands. Looking into his eyes, seeing the love and anguish in their depths, tears slipped past her rigid control and raced down her cheeks. “You’ve searched for the Reconciler, for me, for a hundreds of years. You continued when others gave up hope. You and Bel. Would you let all those years of sacrifice be for nothing? Would you condemn your race to endless torture? The entire world enslaved to serve demons? All so one person can live?” “When that person is you? Yes. I would let the entire fucking world die if it meant you would live.” Angry lines furrowed his brow. “You tried by mating with me. You thought if I was immortal I’d be saved.” “Jen, please,” he whispered in a husky voice. “I know you, Garrett. You’re a gargoyle warrior. You’re the Protector and possess the purest of hearts, but I was created to do one thing, Garrett. Just one.” “No.” He crushed her to him. “I can’t let you go, Jen. I won’t.” He tightened his arms around her. “You don’t have a choice,” she whispered, trying to keep from breaking down. She must be strong. Slowly, she pulled from him and lifted onto tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. Before he could engulf her in his embrace once more, she took a step back. “I know where Bel is. I just saw her when we came outside.” “Jen—” “I had a vision…” She wiped the tears from her face. “Tracker ambushed them in the swamps and kept them in a warehouse all day, but now that the sun has set he’s moved them to the burned-out church. The one where the Sgaith Council was massacred. Only it’s not really a church, Garrett. It’s a demon temple. I don’t know how I know but I do. It was originally a place where demons came to perform rituals and when the colonists arrived, they built a church over the underground opening, not knowing what it was. Demons torched the church and reclaimed the ground. There’s not much time. You must hurry.” “Don’t ask me to choose between you and my sister. I can’t.” “I’m not asking. I’m going to do what I was created to do.” He shook his head, pursing his lips together, and she knew he struggled to control the emotions rampaging through him. 234

Reunited

“And you’re going to do what you were created to do,” she said. “You have to trust me and have faith we’ll be together when this is over. You’re my mate.” Tears stung her eyes. “Now go and save Bel and Eric.” “I won’t leave you.” He shook his head. “If you don’t go, Tracker will kill them. He’s angry you haven’t come for her. He’s impatient. Please go and remember you take my love with you.” “Jen.” Garrett closed the distance between them and she found herself in his embrace. He buried his face in her hair. “You must hurry, Garrett.” She eased from him, grasping his hands in hers. She rubbed her cheek against them. “Go before it’s too late.” She turned her back on him and started back into the club before he could protest further. Pausing in front of the door, she watched him pivot in a blur of unfurling wings. He looked so magnificent. Suddenly, he reared back and released a savage roar. He lifted his wings and took flight. He circled overhead and then flew toward the swamps. “I love you,” Jen whispered.

235

Sally Painter

Chapter Twenty-Two “And the mutant gargoyle leader shall join forces with the Reconciler and defeat the pure gargoyles in a fierce battle. Maybe that’s what’s delaying your brother,” Tracker laughed. “Maybe Starn and the Reconciler have already killed him.” “You have rewritten the Legend. It doesn’t say anything about the rogues defeating the Pures,” Bel spat, struggling against the ropes chaffing her wrists. She groaned under the searing pain in her shoulder, disturbed her wounds had not healed completely. She watched Tracker sniff the air like a dog searching for a scent. At least she had the satisfaction of watching him wait for an attack that hadn’t come. He was losing patience and as soon as the moon rose, he’d start the ritual. “Since your telepathic link didn’t bring him here this afternoon, I can only conclude he doesn’t consider saving you important. That is unless the two of you are playing some kind of game.” He glared at her. Bel smiled, masking the worry taunting her with all kinds of desperate scenarios of what was keeping her brother from saving her. Of course, she’d sent Garrett off on a romantic day with his lover, so there’d been no one left to miss her and the two guards. But the day was over. Where was Garrett? Was he looking for her? Was Tracker correct? Could a war between the gargoyles have broken out? She licked her lips and willed the thoughts to slow. Taking a deep breath she reminded herself there had never been any prophecy about a war between the two gargoyle factions, only vague suggestions one might develop if the Reconciler wasn’t found. “Just what’s going on in that gargoyle mind of yours?” Tracker stalked over to her. “I was thinking how handsome a gargoyle you used to be. I’m shocked at how you’ve let yourself go,” Bel sneered. Instead of the angry response she’d hoped to evoke to distract him, Tracker threw back his head and released a raucous laugh. Gurgling and snarling, he wiped his mouth with clawlike hands. To think she had once admired him above all gargoyles. Her stomach churned. His mutation from a rogue to the vile creature standing before had nothing to do with the virus and everything to do about him exerting free will. She’d never seen a rogue embrace the transformation the way Tracker had. She glanced at the demon guards on either side of her. She’d taken down demons their size before. It might be a struggle, especially with her wounds not quite healed, but she might get one of them. Something stirred in the trees overhead and Tracker stared up into the fading light. Nightfall had been swift but the moon had yet to rise above the treetops. Bel recognized the familiar gargoyle shape.

236

Reunited

Garrett! She tried to connect with him telepathically but something blocked her. The interference they’d experienced sporadically over the past month had grown stronger. Was it because he’d transformed or was it from so many demons congregated in the swamps? “Get him!” Tracker pointed to the tree. Flashlight beams raced up the tree trunk, flicking about as the demons searched the branches. The guards holding her looked up and Bel took advantage of their distraction, allowing her body to go limp. She fell backward and the two demons slammed into each other, releasing their hold on her. With her hands still tied behind her back, Bel scrambled to her feet and darted into the woods, bending forward to unfurl her wings. “Get her!” Tracker yelled. She could hear the huffing and heavy demon footfalls behind her, crushing everything in their path. Bel stretched her wings and lifted from the ground, but a steel claw clamped around her ankle. She yelled, flapping her wings, frantically trying to rise. A loud roar sounded overhead and she saw Garrett sail from the treetops. He was a blur when he slammed into the guard, falling on top of the demon. Bel was free and flew toward the top a nearby tree. She paused midair to survey the scene and prepared to descend to assist her brother. She stopped when Garrett twisted the demon’s neck. The creature fell from him, melting into a smoking, red ooze. It ignited and blazed bright. Garrett lifted from the ground and motioned her to follow. Rising high above the treetops, Bel hovered over the horde of demons on the ground. Tracker and the demons scurried around the fallen logs in a frantic search for her. “Are you all right?” Garrett called out. She nodded while struggling against the plastic restraints around her wrists. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were missing. I thought you were staying with Starn. It wasn’t until—” “How did you find me?” “Where’s the kid?” Garrett moved behind her and she felt the cold blade move between her wrists. One swift movement and the binders fell free. “Thanks.” She rubbed her wrists, easing the ache. “I don’t know where they took the kid. They separated us when we got here.” “But he’s here?” “Maybe.” “Okay. Take this.” He handed her a cell phone. “Call Holtz. Tell him to get our troops out here, now.” “What are you going to do?” She speed dialed Holtz. “Make sure Tracker stays here. This could end the battle before it starts.”

237

Sally Painter

***** Tracker clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. Damn fools. Whatever happened to knowing a gargoyle was nearby? Lazy oafs. Where were his sentries? Why hadn’t the warning been sounded? He ran through the thick undergrowth. The bed of wet leaves and sticks squished under his footfalls. He escaped unnoticed and headed toward the narrow road where he’d left the truck. Fortunately, he always had a backup plan. Jumping inside the truck, he started the engine and backed out of the swamp. He took a sharp turn onto an overgrown road that led to yet another back road and to the main underground entrance. He rolled down the window and sniffed. The gargoyle scent faded. They were probably still at the ruins fighting his men. He pressed the gas pedal and the truck bounced over the rutted road. Absently, he wondered how such brilliant demons who’d built the network of underground tunnels could be the ancestors of the ones he’d just left in the swamps, then remembered the majority of them were not earth demons. “Damn incompetents!” he growled. Served them right if Garrett and his troops destroyed them. If the gargoyles didn’t do it, he sure as hell would. At least his team were competent enough to take the kid to the tunnels and stow him where the gargoyles would never find him. Right under their noses. Garrett would call for reinforcements. While they were busy looking for him in the swamp, Tracker would be busy making sure Eric Dolby completed his rite of passage as a water demon. With the kid by his side, he’d soon have the power to open the Abyss and set his brethren free. Come sunrise, he’d be the new ruler of the world! He just needed one other element to complete the ritual. The Reconciler would come to the kid’s rescue and fall right into his trap. A shadow flew over the open field. “Bel,” he snarled.

***** “Well, sweetcakes, it sounded like your man was angry. He left before I could tell him I’ve already searched the swamps for Bel. My troops and I searched the moment I found out she was missing. Guess you don’t have any special Reconciler powers that can help me locate her, do you?” “Give me your hand,” Jen said, ignoring the question. She knew a little theatrics was needed if she was going to convince these rogues to follow her. She hurried across the club to where Starn stood with his troops ready to go out and search for Bel once more. Jen released the anxiety quivering inside her. She must be strong and confident for this to work.

238

Reunited

“Look, I’m in a big hurry. My mate is Tracker’s prisoner. You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s wanted to capture Bel and Garrett for a long time. Whatever you’re up to—” He held his broken hand to his chest. “Let me hold your hand and I’ll show you.” Starn frowned but Jen didn’t wait for him to give her permission and reached for his broken hand. He pulled it from her, offering his other hand. “Not that one, the broken one.” She frowned up at him. “But I can’t feel your tender touch with that one,” he said. She reached for his hand again and this time he relented. His finely chiseled features and shortly cropped blond hair belied a serious, darker side. He was in agony. A warrior trapped in a lesser body. She would see what she could do to remedy that. “Hurry up now, I really need to get going.” His tone was impatient. Jen held her breath. If she failed then Starn and his men would never follow her into battle. “Okay,” she breathed. “Ready?” “What are you going to do?” Starn pulled his hand from hers. “Just relax, big guy. I’m sure a brave gargoyle like you isn’t afraid of a woman not big enough to hurt you with her best punch. Let me hold your hand.” He lifted the cast up and Jen placed one hand beneath it and one on top. “I know it hurts a lot more than you let on.” “What is she doing?” The gargoyles moved closer. “I hope I can do something to help you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, a strange sensation radiated to her hands and they warmed against the cast. “Whoa. What was that?” he asked, looking down at his hand. “You feel something, man?” Mack, one of the bouncers asked, coming to stand beside Starn. “Shh.” Jen closed her eyes visualizing his bones mending and healing. Wave after wave of energy tingled down her arms and heated her hands until the cast grew warmer beneath her fingers. “How are you doing that?” Starn asked wide-eyed. “I-I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and continued to focus on his hand, sensing his pain and visualizing the broken bones fusing back together. Strong and healthy. The cast grew so hot it became pliable between her hands as though it were melting. She bent his hand and the cast fell free. “Shit, man. She melted the cast right off your hand,” Mack said. “I hope it feels better.” Jen released him. Starn held up his hand in front of his face, wiggling his fingers, balling it into a fist and opening it again.

239

Sally Painter

“Damn. It’s healed,” he laughed. He stared from his hand to her. “How’d you do that?” Mack slapped him on the back. “I don’t feel any more pain. None.” He moved his hand. A round of cheers and applause followed. “How did you do that?” he asked. Jen couldn’t stop the wide grin from spreading over her face. Now Starn and his men would follow her. They had witnessed her special powers. The rest would be easy. “I’m the Reconciler. And I’m here to reunite the gargoyles,” she said, watching their smiles fall and a new expression move over their faces―hope.

***** Starn paced in the open field, looking at his crew. He’d rounded them all up, about a hundred, just as Jen requested, and now they all stood around in the field waiting on her. He glared at the intersection leading to the swamp. Where was she? Mack lifted his chin and nodded. Starn followed his stare as gargoyles drifted from the sky and landed a few feet away. “What’s all this?” he asked the newly arrived troops. The men and women were dressed in leather pants and vests with muscular arms exposed. They nodded to him and his attention immediately riveted to the tattoos. Tattoos they all had. Tattoos hidden from everyone beneath t-shirt sleeves. Tattoos no longer gold, but blood-red. The sign of infection. The troops stood at attention when he approached them. “Word is spreading that the Reconciler healed you. Gargs are coming from all over to join in the fight,” Mack explained, walking beside him. “She only healed my hand, man. I’m still what I was and will be for the rest of my life.” “Maybe.” Mack shrugged. Starn stopped in front of the newly arrived troops. They bowed their heads slightly. “My liege,” they said in unison, slamming hard fists against their chests. “What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Are you all doing drugs?” He turned to Mack, but his attention lifted to the sky. Darkness moved over the treetops. At first he thought it was a cloud, but quickly recognized wings. Gargoyles. Hundreds of them. “Son of a bitch, where’d they all come from?” “We’ve been waiting for this moment,” Mack said and slapped Starn’s back. “We’ve been training. Waiting for the day you’d step up and become our lieutenant again.” Starn looked around the field then back to Mack. 240

Reunited

“It’s time we took action.” Mack’s shaved head reflected moonlight. “We’re damned tired of being pushed out of the Clisneach Guard like we’re some kind of—” “Freaks?” Starn asked. “Yeah,” the warriors growled followed by gruntlike comments. “Well, get over it. We are freaks!” Starn shouted. The gargoyles visibly bristled at the slur and tightened their hands into fists by their sides. “Do you think fighting a bunch of demons alongside the Pures is somehow going to redeem us?” “That’s exactly what we think, my liege,” Mack said. “The Sgaith Council was massacred last night.” He glared at them. A wave of muttering washed over the troops. “Another is being formed as we speak,” a female shouted. “Even so, they’ll never recognize us as anything other than mutations to our species,” Starn spat. “Maybe one of us will be selected for the new Council,” someone shouted. “Oh I can see that happening,” Starn laughed and a chorus of laughter and angry voices followed. “Enough!” Mack yelled, holding his arms above his head. The gargoyles grew quiet. “We’re here because we all know we can’t fight our destiny.” Starn pivoted to inform him how destiny had betrayed them when his attention shifted to the shadows swaying from the surrounding trees. Lightning bugs flashed around the dozens of gargoyles descending to the field. They retracted their wings in the precision born of military training. They joined the group and stood with their hands clasped behind their backs. “What the hell?” He turned around in the field. “I thought you were organizing to overthrow the Sgaith Council. Now that I’d fight for.” “That was our plan, until the Reconciler—” “Healed your hand!” A tall female Starn had never seen before interrupted Mack. “Destruction to all demons,” someone shouted. “We are Clisneach!” “We are Clisneach!” the chorus boomed around him, “We are Clisneach!” “At your command.” Mack lowered to one knee, bowing forward with his fist to his chest. The troops followed his stance, striking their chests again in a resounding thud. “Get up. I’m not leading anyone anywhere and certainly not into battle. You’re all living in the past. That’s who we used to be. We aren’t warriors. And I’m not your liege.” He glared at them, hating what was no longer true yet hating what was true even more. Each pair of eyes reflected the same determination he’d felt so long ago. Memories stirred, leaving him with a feeling of remorse…homesickness. How he longed to be the 241

Sally Painter

warrior he’d once been. He’d led them into thousands of battles against demons and they’d always emerged victorious. Swallowing the burning in his throat, Starn continued to stare at them. They were strong but they were a fractured group, mere remnants of their former greatness. “Gargoyles.” A feminine voice sliced through the air with clarity and power riding the authoritative tone. Starn looked around just as Jen Ormand emerged from the night, wearing black pants and a black tank top. Her strides reflected her determined countenance. The gargoyles bowed when she strode past them toward the center of the group. “What the hell?” Starn shook his head. She turned to address the troops. “Your liege has assumed your fates are sealed. That you are less than gargoyles. That you are freaks of nature,” she said and turned around in the circle, letting her gaze touch them. “But he’s wrong. All of you—all gargoyles—have a place in this world. All gargoyles are charged with the same sacred duty. Just as you were from the beginning of time. Each of you represents the new gargoyle generation. Destiny saw to your change so you could walk among the demons during the day and understand their plans. You weren’t changed so you could turn against your own kind and work for your enemy.” Several heads bowed and Starn knew it was guilt not reverence that weighted them. “As of this moment, each of you is redeemed. Tonight, destiny will see that you recapture all that you have lost so you can destroy our enemy.” The gargoyles crowding the field cheered. “How?” came a shout from the mass. “How do we recapture our true nature?” Jen didn’t pause. There was too much momentum to allow a naysayer to destroy what she was building. “You can be just as strong as you ever were. You only have to believe.” “I believe the virus has robbed us. That’s what I believe,” someone shouted, followed by boisterous cheers. Jen held her hands up and they grew quiet. “Fate has bestowed upon you a great gift by making you more than just a gargoyle. You’ve been allowed to experience the human condition complete with all its frailties and weaknesses. You’ve been challenged to rise above these and by doing so, you’ve walked through the fire enabling you to be better protectors of your charges.” “How does this virus make us better equipped?” a male voice challenged. “Because you can now foresee the temptations wrought by human weakness. You are the perfection of the divine plan.”

242

Reunited

There was a surge of mumbling and whispers followed by disgruntled comments. Jen’s pulse was erratic. She felt guided as she spoke to them and gave herself over to the inner wisdom forming her words. “I offer you a chance to be healed.” “How?” “I am the Reconciler and I’m here tonight to reconcile the differences between the gargoyles.” “Can it be true?” came a gasp. “She’s the Reconciler?” “Tonight, for those of you standing in this field, the division that separates you from a proud and glorious heritage ends. You were created with only one mandate, save and protect the human race.” The crowd fell quiet. “She speaks the truth. I witnessed Starn’s healing.” Jen looked up at Starn, hoping he would rise to the challenge. “It’s true. She healed my hand. But I’m still a mutant freak,” Starn growled. “Only because you don’t believe,” Jen smiled at him. “I, too, had my doubts. Like Starn, I didn’t believe, until I was forced to accept I am the Reconciler. And I’m here to ask you to rise to the challenge tonight. I ask you to believe. Believe you are healed and you shall receive the divine healing that awaits you. A gift opened by faith. Your faith.” Jen looked around the field. Her heart slammed against her chest. She was unsure if she could pull this off but knew she must try. The words had tumbled from her without conscious thought and she’d listened to the message provided by the unseen force that went beyond understanding and defied all logic. She just knew it was true. She felt it as surely as she felt her fingers attached to her hands. And she was sure they would be healed if they believed it possible. It was so simplistic and that was the purity of it. It was a simple matter of faith. “This is bullshit, man,” came a snarl. “I don’t believe. How can I?” “If you believe,” Jen said and began to rise from the ground, “then you will receive the healing.” A loud gasp rose from the mass of gargoyles standing in the field and the higher she rose the louder it grew. “I believe, Reconciler!” someone shouted. “I believe!” came a volley of voices. Jen held out her arms. “It’s time to return to your true selves. It’s time to become Clisneach once more with the knowledge and wisdom you have gleaned from your suffering.”

243

Sally Painter

The gargoyles began to kneel on one knee and it was like a rolling sea of dark figures. Finally every gargoyle was kneeling except Starn. He stood defiant, shaking his head as the gargoyles bowed theirs. “Receive your healing,” she said and a bluish wave of energy descended over the gargoyles. It washed over them, swirling and dividing into smaller streams that entered their chests. Their bodies tensed followed by cries of jubilation. Several fell prone onto the ground. “Glory. I’m healed,” came a voice. “I’m healed,” another gargoyle yelled. One after the other cried out. Jen stared down at Starn. “Your hand was healed and still you doubt the role fate has decreed for you? Just as I did.” Starn shook his head. “Let go of all that anger,” Jen said. “It no longer serves you. You can be healed and when this battle is over, you shall return to your life with Bel. You can be together as you once were.” She watched the mighty gargoyle’s face tense into a hard expression and he appeared to be struggling to accept her words. She sensed his desire to believe and the fierce longing to be with Bel again, but his faith had been trampled. Conditioned to being denied his fiercest desires, the gargoyle warrior was afraid to believe. Afraid of being denied his birthright, one more time. “You can be healed.” Jen lowered to the ground beside him. “Please allow yourself to be healed, Starn. Bel needs you.” She reached out and touched his arm. An electrical shock surged from her and he jerked under the jolt. One leg buckled under him and he sank to the ground. His expression shifted to one of awe and Jen knew he’d been healed. He shook his head, eyes wide as he slowly looked up at her. “You really are the Reconciler,” he said. “Praise be to the Reconciler,” a chant boomed through the night. The moment was beyond words or emotions she’d ever known. Standing in the field underneath the full moon, Jen’s heart swelled with pride for these mighty warriors, now restored to their true selves. Just as she’d been restored to her true self thanks to the bravest of them all—Garrett. And with restoration came strength and determination. Slowly she raised her hands and the cheers choked off into silence. “Praise be to gargoyles. Praise be to the Clisneach!” she yelled. Loud shouts followed and the gargoyles stood, thrusting their fists into the air. Jen pivoted and watched as one red tattoo after another was transformed to gold.

244

Reunited

“Look at your Clisneach seal,” a few of them noticed and shouted. “We really are healed.” Jen smiled as they grew boisterous and slapped each other on the back while shedding tears of joy. “I…I…” Starn stuttered beside her as he examined the gold tattoo on his arm. Her heart swelled with so much pride tears welled in her eyes. A powerful essence radiated from the army of gargoyles unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was overwhelming. Once more she levitated from the ground just high enough to overlook the average six and a half foot tall gargoyle stature. Silence fell over them, backdropped by the ever-present nocturnal chorus of crickets and cicadas. “You are healed, noble warriors.” She choked on the burst of pride she felt for them. “Your long suffering has ended and you’ve been rewarded with greater compassion for all who suffer.” Low murmurs swept over the crowd. “Your tattoos, the Clisneach Seal,” she repeated the phrase they’d used, “its light of gold has replaced the mark of darkness. These are now badges of honor. Forever proof of your healing. You are once more the Clisneach Guard!” The roars were deafening and rang out in a continuous echo. She smiled down at them. Starn lifted from the ground, his golden wings magnificent in the night’s brilliant light. Wind fluttered over them, separating the feathers, fanning them in a glorious imagery. Her thoughts turned to Garrett with his black wings just as majestic as his blond counterpart and she worried what fate he’d suffered undertaking Bel’s rescue. She prayed his troops had arrived in time. Starn held out his hands and the gargoyles fell silent. “This is a joyous night for all gargoyles.” He slapped his arm where the gold tattoo glowed. Another wellspring of cheers followed. “Listen to what our Reconciler has to say,” he said and nodded to Jen. “Your mighty strength is needed tonight in the final battle against the demons. A battle that will determine this world’s fate. Your commander, Garrett Dermonté, and a handful of brave gargoyle warriors, your brothers and sisters, set out for the demon temple in the swamp. Demons kidnapped a young man. A teenage water demon who must decide this very night if he will embrace good or evil. Tracker wishes to corrupt him and steal his powers to open the Abyss.” The gargoyles shouted angrily. “The Legend tells us only a water demon’s power can open the Abyss wide enough to offer safe passage from hell into our world. But this power can only be activated by the water demon making a sacrifice, its first kill. That life given must be that of the Reconciler. Me.” She kept the fear from warbling in her voice. “The demons have captured Bel Dermonté, Starn’s mate,” she said and pointed to him. “Tracker plans to

245

Sally Painter

use her as bait to ambush Garrett and his troops.” Jen knew her words struck Starn as sharply as any blade and felt it twist into his very soul. She bowed her head. “No!” the gargoyles yelled. “No!” The chant pierced the night. Snarls and growls vibrated around her. “Once the Abyss is reopened,” she continued, “our world, the human world will be overrun with demons using the Abyss gateway.” She paused and took a deep breath, feeling empowered by the energy radiating from the mystical beings. “The demons from hell stand poised on the other side of the Abyss gate, waiting for that one moment when Eric Dolby is forced to complete his rite of passage and take my life. They’ve set a trap to lure me to the hiding place. I’m prepared to face the devil demon. I’m committed to fight so our earth cannot be ravaged by their evil! Are you with me?” Shouts and growls echoed around her. Looking out over the crowd of gargoyles, Jen was at peace with everything she knew must unfold that night. She was the Reconciler. She would complete her sacred duty and lead the reunited gargoyles into battle. And she would give her life so the world could remain safe from demonic rule. She swallowed back the onslaught of emotions. She certainly had everything to live for now that she was free of her childhood and had found the love of her life, but it had all led her to this moment. This precious moment when she’d healed these magnificent sacred soldiers. “I’m here tonight to see that you, too, fulfill your destinies. You have been healed at this appointed hour because we must wage a fierce defense against the demons. Once more you shall protect and you shall save the human world by defeating the demons!” “Reconciler,” began the chant until it grew so loud her ears were ringing. They stomped their feet and fists punched the air above their head, creating a sea of golden tattoos glowing in the moonlight. Jen felt a rush of pride. They were ready. But she still must face the ultimate test. Would she be able to sacrifice her life not as Tracker’s victim, but in this final attempt to stop him? She took a deep breath. “We’re ready to unite with our brethren,” Mack shouted. “Let all things of the past be left in this field. Let us create a new present and a better future, for all,” Jen said. Starn looked at her and winked. “Just look at you, sweetcakes. All transformed into the Reconciler…strong and determined. You’re a leader of gargoyles.” Jen! She her heart felt as though it stopped beating. She recognized the voice. “Garrett,” she cried. “I can hear him.” Starn looked around. “He’s calling me.” “I don’t hear anything but them,” he nodded to the troops. Jen realized it was a telepathic connection with Garrett. 246

Reunited

“We don’t have much time,” she said. “We have to free Eric and get him to a church somewhere. Only holy ground will keep him safe from the demonic attack.” “There used to be one not too far from the demon temple,” Starn said and shouted to the troops, “Time to fly.” There was a mass movement as the men and women surrounding him stretched forward to release their wings. Spreading his wings, Starn paused as though contemplating her. “We’ll follow you,” he said. A nervous smile spread over her lips and Jen willed herself to rise. She paused about ten feet above the ground. “Are you coming?” “Yeah! Let’s go kick some demon ass,” Starn shouted. The troops cheered and began to lift into the night. It was a sight Jen would always remember as the mass of gargoyles took to wing. “Let’s go save Bel and Garrett.” Starn flew beside her as they headed for the swamp. She glanced over her shoulder, watching the troops form several V-formations as though they’d been practicing every day. “We deserve this opportunity to prove ourselves,” Mack said as he flew beside Starn. “I never thought I’d feel like a gargoyle again.” Starn looked away. “You’ve come into your own pretty quickly. What other powers have you discovered?” he asked Jen. “Quite a few. I can’t wait to test the rest of them out on a demon.” “A little childhood revenge?” Starn laughed. “Something like that,” Jen admitted. She would extract pleasure from finally being able to fight demons instead of running from them.

247

Sally Painter

Chapter Twenty-Three Starn felt self-conscious and forced himself to say what he needed to say, since according to the Legend Jen Ormand wouldn’t survive the night. Sadness struck him. He knew what it would mean to Garrett. Suddenly, he felt Garrett’s pain as his own. He glanced at Jen. She was right. His long suffering had bestowed upon him a greater compassion for others. “So I wanted to ah…” he stammered, feeling foolish but needing to express his gratitude. “I owe you an apology. Thank you for not running away from all this. I know…we all know, the sacrifice you’re about to make—” His words choked off. She bowed her head but not before he glimpsed the tears in her eyes. “You’re a brave woman, Jen Ormand,” he added, longing to bolster her courage. “And we’re all beside you. We’ll defend you tonight, sweetcakes. Not everything is written in stone.” “All we have to do is believe. Right?” she asked. “I hope you have a whole lot of believing,” Mack said, pointing to the clearing below and the horde of demons building a large bonfire. There were hundreds, maybe a thousand of them, crammed inside the clearing and overflowing into the swamps. Jen didn’t recall how the battle actually started. One moment, she was flying with the gargoyles above the clearing and the next thing she was on the ground fighting hand-to-hand with demons, discovering another new ability as a skilled fighter. She stood over the remains of the demon she’d just killed. The first one. Looking down at the liquefied pool of red, she took a step back when it burst into flames. Acrid smoke filled her nostrils and her stomach pitched. A growl sounded behind her and Jen turned just as another demon lunged for her. Spitting a vile substance from its mouth, the phlegm hit her in the eyes. The demon laughed, but Jen swiped the slime from her face and the creature’s eyes widened. A look of disbelief washed over its twisted face and she flung the gunk at it. The liquid seared his flesh and she lifted from the ground, kicking the creature in the chest. The force sent it careening into a jagged tree stump and the splintered tree thrust through his chest. Wailing, the demon melted over the stump and caught fire. Jen turned around, arms flexed in front of her, ready for the next one. The swamp resembled a scene from a medieval movie, complete with a patchy kaleidoscope of moonlight and darkness. A full moon filled the opening overhead and illuminated the battlefield.

248

Reunited

Brilliant bursts of fire flared from slain demons. Where was Garrett? She hadn’t seen him since arriving, and every time she attempted to connect with him telepathically, her concentration was broken by a charging demon. Gargoyles swooped down from the trees and grabbed demons, carrying the struggling creatures to the treetops and dropping them into the stump-littered swamp floor. The demons’ screams echoed through the swamp as they plummeted to their deaths. Jen started toward the temple remains, searching the ruins for Garrett and Bel. She looked at the altar, expecting to find Eric chained to it, but no one was there. Not even Tracker. Where were they? She spun around in a circle. Had Tracker fled when the gargoyles attacked? Surely it had come as a surprise. He believed he’d managed to circumvent the Legend when his minions massacred the Council. The destruction of the Sgaith Council was never part of the Legend. Dammit. Where had he gone? “Jen!” Garrett called out. The sound of his voice filled her with relief. She turned around to greet him but screamed when a demon jumped from the broken steps. Its sword sliced the air in front of her and she dodged the blade and flipped in the air, sailing over the demon’s head and landing behind him. Garrett flew over her just as the creature pivoted to counter her maneuver and slammed into the demon. They rolled to the ground. Garrett was quick to his feet but the demon was faster. It retaliated with a hard punch and Garrett fell backward against a tree. The demon lifted its sword. “No,” Jen yelled and waved her hands, willing the creature from Garrett, but nothing happened. She tried again, as she had the other times, but the demon drew the sword higher. What was wrong? The blade whooshed over the demon’s head and she jumped onto the hellion’s back, twisting its neck before it could strike Garrett. The sound was sickening. The demon’s body slumped to the ground and Jen stumbled from it just as it caught fire. She reached down and helped Garrett to his feet, wrapping her arms around his waist while scattering kisses over his face. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed. “They separated Bel and the kid. I got here just after Tracker escaped. Bel’s okay. She’s around here somewhere fighting.” She was relieved Garrett was alive but her fears shifted to Eric. “Tracker needs you for the ritual. He’ll be back so stay close to me.” He planted a short peck on her lips. He looked around the swamp, thick with gargoyles flying overhead and diving to the ground. “I can’t believe this. You did it. You reconciled us.” “It’s incredible,” she admitted.

249

Sally Painter

“Let me call the gargoyles off,” he turned from her to signal the troops, “and you can do that magic thing you did with the demons that killed the Council. Then―” “It’s not working, Garrett.” She grabbed his arm and he turned back to her. Disbelief clouded his eyes. “What?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s happening but I’m losing some of my powers. When I gained the ability of hand-to-hand combat, I somehow lost the other.” “It doesn’t matter.” He forced a smile. “The Clisneach can take care of themselves. Come on. We have to hurry and find the Abyss.” He limped ahead of her. “You’re hurt,” she said. “I think I can still heal. Let me try.” “Later. We have to find the river.” “What river? There’s no river in the swamp.” “The Legend states it’s located beneath the swamp, in water that runs pure from an underground spring. That’s where the Abyss is. If the water demon chooses evil over good and sacrifices as his first kill the Reconciler,” he mumbled the last, “that action will release the energy that sealed the river. A vacuum will be created and serve as a tunnel leading straight to hell. The demons will use the passage to enter our world. “Help me find a staircase…some kind of opening around here. There was a basement that served as the entrance to a series of tunnels.” He moved around the ruins searching in the underbrush from an opening. “One tunnel leads away from the swamp. That’s the one we want. One part of it was built over an underground river,” he huffed, digging through the underbrush. “The demons abandoned the temple except for certain rituals.” “I didn’t find anything about an underground river in the material I read.” “The mention of the tunnel was left out of the Legend. Only a select few gargoyles know about it. One particular gargoyle renowned for his studies in demonology made it his life’s work to discover the location.” He bent over and shoved the undergrowth aside. “Tracker,” she said and glanced up at him. “Behind you!” A demon stood over Garrett, with a sword slung back ready for attack. Jen heard the swooshing sound behind her and turned just as Starn flew over and slammed into the demon, carrying it away. She watched in amazement as the demon dangled below the golden-winged creature, shouting and flailing about. Starn turned around, swooped over them and dropped the creature onto the altar a few feet away. Jen sighed with relief and turned from the flames. “He’ll never let me live that down,” Garrett said and pulled against the thick vines. “Here, I think this is it!” Jen rushed to help him. “If this is the opening then how did Tracker get down there?

250

Reunited

“Like I said, he’s a scholar of demonology. He must have figured out where the other entrance is.” “There’s more than one entrance? So how can Tracker survive near the underground river? You said its water is pure.” She panted, pulling on the thick vines. The undergrowth gave under her newfound strength. “The water demon’s power will protect Tracker as long as he is within a few feet of him.” “So why this place?” “Because this is where the demons created the gateway and providence sealed it with a river. Demons used this place as the sacrificial altar, acting out the legend’s prediction of the perfect sacrifice that would reopen the Abyss. They conducted their human sacrifices here and their rites of passage. “Marcy,” she said. Brutal scenes tormented her as she recalled the massacre of the Sgaith Council. Garrett covered her hand with his and gave a gentle squeeze before resuming the task of clearing the entrance. Jen looked back at the altar, trying to keep the images from flashing through her mind. Marcy’s screams pierced her ears. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Help me, Jen. We must hurry.” She closed her mind to the painful images. “How do you know all this?” she asked. “It’s my job. I’ve been doing this for a very long time. And as painful as it is, you have to understand they used Marcy for no other purpose than fun. She was a mistake. They were after you. They could have used her for leverage to force Eric to help them, but demons can’t resist doing what they do best. Evil. This is it. Help me with this slab.” He shoved a limb off it. She couldn’t think about it. It was too horrible to hold in her mind for longer than a second. “So what about Eric? What makes a water demon so special?” “An adolescent demon, any demon, be it an underworld living above ground, a half-breed or a water demon, must choose at the marking of its seventeenth birthday if it shall serve good or evil.” Garrett grunted as he shoved the stone slab. The uneven stone gave a few inches, grinding against the gap which now revealed a dark void. “If he completes the rite of passage then he will cement his role in life as a demon.” He grunted and pushed again. Once more the slab moved only a few inches. “I still don’t get it. I didn’t know a demon had a choice.” “Every living thing has free will, Jen.” Garrett paused to take a deep breath and gather his strength. He pushed against the granite slab. “The Abyss is actually underneath the river?”

251

Sally Painter

“The river is a perfect seal except when a water demon is born. I suspect Tracker tried to get Eric’s father to persuade Eric to cooperate with them. When he refused, they killed him.” The stone moved a little more, scraping to a stop. “Garrett!” Starn yelled. Garrett turned as a demon brought a sword crashing down, missing him and striking the stone. “Get the hell away from him,” Jen shouted and kicked the demon in the chest. The thrust broke the demon in two and he fell onto the ground, flames from his broken body flaring into a high torch. “You’ve grown stronger,” he said, a look of appreciation moving over his face. “What happens to Eric if he doesn’t choose evil? I know he’s a good person. What if he chooses good?” “Then he becomes like me. A gargoyle.” “What?” She stopped pushing on the stone. “What did you say?” “All demons have the choice of exerting free will. They can choose the path of good and their reward is transformation into a gargoyle.” “I had no idea.” She grunted when the stone didn’t budge. “That’s it,” she said and straightened from the slab, brushing the dirt from her hands. “Stand back.” She narrowed her stare on the slab and lifted her hands. “Move,” she said and shoved her hands to the side in a gesture. The slab lifted and sailed across the swamp, hitting a demon and crushing it. “How did you do that? I thought you’d lost that power?” Garrett asked, shoving cobwebs out of his way as he started down the steps. “I don’t know.” Jen shrugged. “Maybe it was just temporarily inactive.” Garrett winked at her before disappearing down the flight of stairs. Jen followed. The basement was dark but it was as though she wore night goggles. “Hold my hand. I can guide you. It’s probably too dark for you to see anything,” he whispered. “I can see.” He smiled at her. “Why are you smiling?” “You’re so full of surprises, baby.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. Eric’s cry echoed around them. “Come on.” Garrett grabbed her hand and they ran down a tunnel toward the sound. Water seeped along the walls and their footfalls splashed through the shallow rivulets. Jen worried the ancient tunnel might cave in on them in an avalanche of mud and water. When they came to a turn, Garrett halted and pressed her against the wall. “I won’t do it,” Eric yelled.

252

Reunited

“Your first kill. You must do this before midnight. We’re running out of time. Now do it.” Tracker’s voice boomed around them. “Don’t listen to him, kid,” Bel said. “He’s the devil’s whipping boy. It won’t work with anyone other than the Reconciler. He knows that but he’s desperate.” “Shut up!” Garrett’s breathing quickened. Jen grabbed his arm and stepped around him. Somehow Tracker had recaptured Bel. How could they have noticed with the chaos above ground? Just ahead a small vaulted room came into view. Illuminated by a wall torch sputtering and casting firelight, Jen saw Bel suspended from the ceiling, hanging over a round grate. The sound of rushing water came from underneath the open grid. Her arms were crossed and she was bound at the wrists with thick chains. Jen motioned for Garrett to remain in the shadows, but his fingers closed around her wrist. Jen pressed against his. All his muscles were rigid. He didn’t have to speak, she could hear his thoughts. I love you, Jen. I can’t lose you. You must let me fulfill my destiny. I’m the Reconciler. I must do this. Jen held his face between her hands, drawing in his scent of ocean and earth. You must trust me. You can’t lose me. We’re mated. Forever. She pressed her lips to his. It was a kiss filled with salt as their tears mingled when she opened her mouth to receive his tongue. Sadness clung to the kiss and for a split second she was back on the houseboat making love to him. Jen broke away first. His eyes watered and she longed to reassure him but they both knew she was destined to die. Easing from his arms, Jen lifted from the ground and lowered to the tunnel floor just outside the lit chamber. “I think you’re looking for me,” she said and stepped into the lit chamber. “Eric made his choice and it’s for good, not evil.” “You,” Tracker hissed and shoved Eric in front of him. “It’s okay, Eric. You’re going to be all right.” Tracker crouched forward and sniffed. “We’re going to get out of here. I promise,” she spoke in what she hoped was a calming tone. Terror widened the teenager’s eyes. “I smell a gargoyle. Where is he?” “Here,” Garrett said and stepped around her, his wings flattened to his back. Jen noticed he’d transformed into his true self. The panther features were set in a threatening expression and she looked at Tracker, noticing Bel was watching them intently.

253

Sally Painter

Fear pumped through Jen. She’d never faced a demon like this one. And to do so knowing she would soon be dead, set the adrenaline flooding through her. Tracker stepped forward and sniffed again. The putrid smell of demon choked Jen. Her heart pounded in time with the myriad thoughts flashing through her mind. And the Reconciler shall sacrifice her life so the gargoyle warrior shall live, and the Abyss shall remain sealed for all eternity. She wasn’t sure what it meant, other than she was not going to be Eric’s sacrifice but would give her life so he didn’t have to take it. Perhaps. She glanced back at Garrett. His eyes were yellow and filled with hatred as he growled at Tracker. Her lover knew the Legend and had kept her fate from her while he tried to outwit it. “So the Reconciler finally reveals herself,” Tracker wheezed, running a thick tongue over dark purplish lips. “Congratulations, Garrett, on finally succeeding in your mission. Such a long time coming.” “And look what you became during that time.” Garrett stepped in front of her. “Give me the woman and I’ll let your sister go.” His horns, dark and thickly curled, seemed to grow longer. The horns give him power. They will continue to grow and twist as his power increases, Garrett’s voice sounded in her head. Jen looked at Bel, attempting to connect with her, but was unable to establish a link. Eric stood shivering like a frightened dog. His wrists were chained in front of him. “You’re going to be fine, Eric,” she said. He didn’t respond, appearing to be in shock. “You know I never wanted Bel. It was always the Reconciler I desired. The boy will kill her and then the ritual will be completed.” If she was to die this night then she’d be damned if it would be as a sacrifice to the demonic world. Anger bolstered her. “I think we’ve had quite enough of you,” she said and waved her hand in Tracker’s direction. White light followed the motion and sliced through the darkness. It struck Tracker in the chest and sent him careening backward past Bel and down the long tunnel beyond the chamber. His shouts and snarls echoed as the white light drove him further away. Garrett rushed past Jen and set about freeing Bel. “Jen.” Eric ran toward her. The chains around his wrists jangled as he ran. Tears streaked his face. “God, I’m so glad to see you.” He buried his head in her shoulder. “Eric.” She hugged the shivering teenager. “You’re going to be okay. I promise. Here, let me get these chains off you. We must leave before he comes back.” Eric straightened and held his hands out to her.

254

Reunited

She stared at the chains and one of the links began to glow with heat. A smoky vapor curled above it and she pulled against the chains until the metal link broke. The chains fell from him, crashing to the stone floor. She glanced up just as Garrett ripped Bel’s chain from the ceiling and the ceiling began to crumble. He grabbed Bel out of the way of the falling debris. The floor gave under the impact and began to shake beneath them. Patches of flooring crumbled and the grate splashed into the river below. “Come on, Tracker won’t last long down here once Eric is out of range,” Jen said. They ran down the dark tunnel toward the basement and made the turn to find water leaking into the passageway. They waded through the icy water, and by the time they reached the basement the water had risen to waist level. “A wall must have collapsed,” Garrett called over his shoulder. Bel grabbed Eric and stretched her wings partially open, just enough to soar up and out through the opening. Garrett motioned for Jen to go next and followed her above ground. She turned back to the opening when Tracker’s growls were followed by loud splashing. Without Eric, he couldn’t survive much longer in fresh water. Garrett and Bel turned to shove the cap stone over the cellar when Jen shouted, “Move.” Motioning her hand in the direction of the stone, it lifted and landed solidly over the opening, sealing it and drowning Tracker’s agonized screams. She looked around the swamp. The battle was still going on but it appeared the gargoyles now outnumbered the demons. She looked at Bel and met the frightened look. “Starn, behind you!” Bel screamed and leaped several feet past her brother and into the demon charging toward Starn. Garrett didn’t say a word but shoved Jen out of the way of another sword-swinging demon. It plowed into Garrett, sending them crashing into the ruins. “Get off him,” Jen yelled and grabbed the demon by the collar, hurtling it into the altar. Fire flashed around them. She turned and another demon was behind her. The blade glinted in the moonlight and she knew it was meant for her. This was the moment she’d tried to prepare herself forever since reading the passage. Her death. “Jen, no.” Eric ran in front of her and the blade slashed across his chest, ripping his shirt and tearing his flesh. She reacted by slamming her foot into the demon’s head, catching it at just the right angle to snap its neck. The creature burned and she rushed to Eric, who was lying on the ground moaning. The sword had cut a path through his flesh. She closed her eyes against the sight and held her hands over him, desperate to heal him.

255

Sally Painter

“Get Eric out of here,” Garrett ordered Bel and turned to Jen. “He’s been wounded by a demon. You can’t heal him, Jen.” She opened her eyes and stared down at the ragged wound. Blood was everywhere. “Your powers are only for gargoyles,” Garrett said. “Take him to the nearest church. It’s the only place a demon wound can heal.” “Is there a church nearby?” Bel asked her. “About a half mile from here. It was damaged during a hurricane and the roof is missing on one side, but it still stands.” “That’ll work until we can regroup. Do you have your phone?” Jen nodded. Another demon ran toward Jen, yelling and slashing a sword in the air. She grabbed Eric by the front of his t-shirt and jerked him out of the way. Turning back to the demon, Jen waved her hand but nothing happened. “Dammit,” she cried out in frustration. “Go,” Garrett yelled. She lifted from the ground, holding Eric with his back was pressed against her. Bel turned back to the fight and so it had been decided that Jen would save Eric. It was wrong. It should be Garrett or Bel flying away with the teenager. “Oh Eric, why did you stand in front of that demon? You nearly got yourself killed,” she sobbed. Everything in the Legend had happened, except her death. Dare she believe she’d been spared? “Oh my God, Jen,” Eric gasped as she carried him above the trees. “When did you learn to do this?” The words slurred and he slumped forward. “Today,” she said. They flew in the direction of the abandoned church. “You’re going to all right,” she said, but he’d fainted. Flying over the swamp, Jen emerged from the thickly wooded area, recognizing the clearing along the outer boundary of the swamp. A dingy white building jutted from the edge of the woods and she recalled how poor the congregation was. They were unable to pay for proper repairs so they’d abandoned the building and now rented one in the poorer section of town. A tarp had been placed over the back portion of the missing roof but had come loose. She concentrated on landing on the steps and descended. The moon illuminated the church with brilliant light. Everything had grayish cast to it, reminding her of black and white horror movies. She lowered Eric to his feet, supporting him with her shoulder underneath his arm as she helped him through the open door. She wanted to believe the battle was over, but the text scrolled through her mind. The Reconciler must die. Tracker could not have survived the water in the tunnel so by whose hand would she die? Eric groaned.

256

Reunited

“You’re in pain.” She placed her hand on his chest, trying to send healing light, but the light didn’t answer her call. Garrett was right, her healing powers only worked on gargoyles. A shadow fell over the ground and she looked up to see Garrett circling above the church. She watched in fascination as he swooped down and landed on the ground in front of her. “Let me help you.” He hurried over to her, his wings still spread out behind him. Her heart palpitated at the image he cut. Like some magnificent painting come to life—a winged man beneath a silvery full moon, bare-chested and muscled flesh glistening with sweat. She gulped. “The battle is almost over. Only a handful of demons remain.” He glanced down at Eric. “How is he?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response. His hand cupped the back of her head and he planted a hard kiss on her lips. She sensed his fears for her. “I love you so much, Jen,” he said. “Ah, guys.” Eric’s voice was weak. “I’m bleeding here. I think I’m going to pass—” The color drained from his face and his eyes rolled back in his head. “He’s been unconscious since we left the swamp.” “The energy from the church revived him momentarily. Let’s get him settled so he can start healing,” Garrett said and carried the teenager over to a pew. Jen followed, glancing over her shoulder. A tingling sensation prickled over her and she scanned the surrounding woods. Nothing. Perhaps it was just her senses still in overdrive. Garrett laid Eric onto a pew. “He’ll be okay. I promise,” he answered her question before she could speak it. “I’m going to see if I can find something to dress his wound.” The church was dark with wide shafts of moonlight falling through the exposed rafters. She spotted a pair of altar candelabras and wondered if there might be matches somewhere. Suddenly, the wicks caught fire and a golden glow radiated inside the church. Garrett stopped midstride and pivoted to her. You’re so full of surprises, my love.” he smiled and disappeared through a doorway. “I can’t wait to see what else you can do” his voice rang from the adjacent room in a sexy mischievous tone. Emerging from the shadows, he carried a stack of cloths in his arms and set about making a pallet on another pew. Once they had Eric settled onto the makeshift bed, Garrett dressed the wound and then turned to her. “He’s already started to heal. He’ll be fine. I promise.” Garrett opened his arms and Jen fell into his embrace, collapsing against him in a torrent of sobs. “Shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s over.” His voice caressed her with the words she’d longed to hear. It was over. She knew it was adrenaline that kept her standing and realized she was shaking even though it was a hot humid night. Her mind replayed the past hours and the brutal

257

Sally Painter

battle that had taken place in the swamp. She could still hear Tracker’s yells as he drowned in the underground tunnel. “Let it go.” Garrett’s voice was deep and felt like silk drawing over her. “I’m trying,” she sniffed, tightening her arms around his neck. She lifted her head and stood on tiptoes to touch her lips to his. It was a tender kiss but quickly grew into a frantic one. She needed him. Heat burst between them. Garrett lifted her into his arms and carried her through the open doorway and toward the back room beyond the chapel. “Eric,” she whispered between their kiss as he lowered her to the floor. “He’s safe. He’ll need a few days here to heal. The battle is over. Only a few stragglers and my troops will capture them soon enough.” “But what if one of them stumbles upon this place?” “No demon will enter a real church. It wouldn’t survive long. Eric will remain unconscious for a while. At least an hour or two.” He captured her lips again. Perhaps it was from the adrenaline rush or the flight or fight reaction to the battle that heightened her senses. Clinging to Garrett, she didn’t care why, only that she must feel him inside her. There was only one thing in life at that moment. Garrett. She needed to feel his flesh joined to hers. Edgy pulses scorched to her pussy and her juices rushed between her thighs. She groaned, grinding her body against his, unable to get close enough. His flesh was drenched from the heat of the battle. His muscles were like rock beneath her massaging hands. “What do you want?” he asked between kisses, his breath fanning over her lips. “I want to feel alive,” she panted. “I want to know I really cheated fate. That…the Legend was wrong. I didn’t have to die tonight. I want to know we’ll be together forever.” ”Can we trust this? Did we really defeat destiny?” She nodded and placed her hand over his lips. “I’m still here. And right now, I just want to make love to you.” It felt as though the world was on fire with their passion. He captured her lips in a demanding and frenzied kiss. She wanted more, frantic to shed her clothes and be naked with him once more. He broke from the kiss and she tried to hold on to his lips, but he pulled from her, panting. His eyes were wild with the same fervor coursing through her. “Don’t stop now,” she whimpered. Her clit was swollen and ached for his touch. He held her face between his hands. The look in his eyes set her pulse pounding harder.

258

Reunited

“You are indeed my mate, Jen,” he rasped and once more his mouth claimed hers. His tongue pushed inside her mouth and her breath escaped her in a moan. Jen threaded her hands through his hair, tugging him even closer to her. This was not how she’d expected the night to end. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. It was not what she had prepared for. She thought they’d never be together again. But now, the prospect of having a future with Garrett filled her with hope and happiness. She couldn’t suppress the bubble of laughter and it burst against his kiss. Garrett lifted his head and stared down at her. Confusion furrowed into a frown but it was the tender love shining in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “What’s so amusing?” He planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m just so happy. I never thought…I mean I was prepared to die.” She blinked back the tears. One moment she was laughing and the next on the edge of breaking down. “I wasn’t prepared to give you up,” Garrett said in a low throaty tone. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand while cradling her head with the other. “My beautiful love. You made it all happen. You saved the world…and you saved me from an eternity of loneliness.” He touched his lips to hers. It was a tender kiss born of gratitude that they had a second chance and could now plan for a life together. They had defied fate and still won the war in one incredible battle side by side. Together, as she knew they would be always. His tongue parted her lips and delved inside her mouth. She caressed it with hers, tugging him closer but unable to get close enough. Their breaths grew labored as they tugged on each other’s clothing. The night clung to them as though sealing them together in an eternal embrace. His hands slipped beneath her shorts and curved around her ass. Jen shoved his pants over his hips. His cock fell free and she wrapped her fingers around his thickness, hard and hot beneath her kneading fingers. She couldn’t wait and pushed the pants down her legs. Garrett lifted her to his waist and she guided him to her opening. He was powerful, hot and sweaty, his muscles rigid beneath her fingertips as she lifted to ease him inside. She moaned when he entered her. They were joined as one again. His flesh became her flesh. His hot cock, hard as steel, scraped past the folds of her pussy and her juices rushed to ease his entry until he filled her completely. Jen gasped and closed her eyes, savoring the reuniting of their bodies. It felt so good. So right. Garrett supported them with muscular legs braced apart. She lifted her hips, pulling his length in and out of her. Rigid arms held her as he grasped her buttocks and tugged her back to him each time she lifted. Her nerve endings were alive under the friction of his cock slipping in and out of her pussy. Their breaths were hard. Perspiration drenched her hair and rolled down her back, plastering the lengthy curls to her skin.

259

Sally Painter

Garrett nuzzled his face into her neck, panting and rutting toward her breasts whenever she lifted higher. She tugged the t-shirt and dragged it over her head and reached behind to loosen the bra, pulling it from her, dropping it to the floor. He captured an erect nipple in his mouth and suckled it, nibbling with his teeth. Jen leaned back to afford him easier access and planted her feet against the wall behind him, bracing herself. He let her breast fall free of his mouth and leaned back as he pumped his cock into her. She gasped for breath, threading her fingers through his hair until she gripped the back of his head. She was alive! She moaned. There was a future with the man she loved. Whimpering under the intense pleasure, she rocked in his arms, rolling her hips as the liquid fire raced up her spine. She reclaimed him as her mate. Spasms gripped her and she gasped for breath as wave after wave of release seized her and drew her body tight around him. His neck muscles tightened and Garrett leaned back, thrusting his cock into her as his seed exploded inside her. His roar startled the night into silence. Their bodies, scorching and wet from the juices of their union, spasmed together. “Garrett.” Jen held his face in her hands, his skin was hot and sweaty beneath her touch. She brushed a damp strand of hair from his face. “I love you,” she whispered and claimed his mouth once more.

260

Reunited

Chapter Twenty-Four Jen lifted her head. It took a moment to remember where she was. Why had she awakened from such a sound sleep? She looked down at Garrett and smiled. He was still sleeping. Their wild lovemaking had left them spent. She longed to kiss him but didn’t want to disturb him. Feeling sated and complete, she reluctantly moved from him, deciding to check on Eric. Even though Garrett said the teenager would be fine, she couldn’t stop worrying about him. She got dressed and stood staring down at her beloved. He was her husband. Her mate. Even if she would live a normal human life, they would still be together. The danger had passed. They were all safe. After admiring his naked body sprawled out on the makeshift pallet of old cloths, she forced herself to turn and pick her way through the debris. Her night vision was a blessing as she moved through the dark passageway where the moonlight didn’t shine. When she entered the chapel, Eric’s deep breathing told her the teenager still slept. She made her way over to the pew and slumped down beside him. Her body ached in places she’d never felt the slightest sensation before. It was still difficult to believe they’d won. What would happen now? How long would it take for Eric to heal from his wound? Was this truly the best plan of action for healing him instead of a hospital? And what about Garrett? Could she heal him like she had the other gargoyles? While she knew he hadn’t mutated, something had happened to turn his golden tattoo to blue and allow him to be in sunlight. His wings were red during the day and black at night. If not infected with the virus, then what? She sat with her eyes closed, chewing on her lower lip as her mind jumped from one thought to the next. “What’s wrong?” Garrett’s voice echoed across the chapel and she looked up to find him standing near the altar, running his hand through his hair. He stood barefoot, dressed only in dark pants, looking every bit like a sleepy boy awakened from a deep slumber. “Are you sure we don’t need a doctor?” she asked, brushing Eric’s hair from his face. “He’ll heal on his own.” “How can he heal on his own?” “Because tonight he becomes a gargoyle.” Garrett walked over to her. Love swelled in her and Jen reached for his hand. He lifted his other one to her face and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip.

261

Sally Painter

“I love you,” he whispered and bent over her, slowly removing his finger from her mouth to replace it with his lips. Tears sprang hot in her eyes. It was just so difficult to contain the emotions swelling in her. She returned his kiss. Her mind raced with questions. They had a lot to discuss. Their future. What would they do now that Tracker was defeated and the Abyss remained safely sealed? Would she return to her life before being the Reconciler? Would she lose her Reconciler powers? Garret straightened and stood looking down at her. His eyes told her everything. No words were needed. They would love each other. It was all they needed to worry about for now. Eric stirred and Jen turned to him. “Where are we?” He tried to sit up but Garrett eased him back into the pew. “Rest, Eric. You have a difficult time ahead.” “We didn’t win?” he asked, looking up at them. “Hey you,” Jen grinned. “We won. You’re a hero.” “Me?” he asked. “You saved Jen but were wounded by a demon. You must heal on holy ground. Your healing is compounded because you’re transforming. That too must happen on holy ground.” “I don’t understand,” he groaned and moved his arm over his eyes. “You made a choice when you saved Jen. You chose good over evil,” Garrett explained. “I couldn’t let them kill Jen,” he insisted. “That wasn’t a choice. It just was.” “You resisted Tracker when he wanted you to kill Bel. Both were choices, Eric,” Jen said, watching the confusion cloud his eyes. “Why do I feel like someone is beating me up inside?” Eric asked. “You’re going through a metamorphosis. You’re becoming a gargoyle.” “What?” He shot straight up in the seat but leaned over, groaning from the sudden movement. “Eric.” Jen touched his shoulder and he sat back in the pew trying to catch his breath. “You’re becoming a gargoyle,” Garrett repeated. “It’s been done this way since the beginning of time. You were expected to choose the path of demon. It was what you were raised to be but what you weren’t told is you always had a choice. If you’d been born to gargoyle parents then you’d have known there are always two paths.” “I can’t believe this. I’m going to be a gargoyle?” he asked, looking from Garrett to Jen. They both nodded. “Oh man, my mom is going to be furious!” 262

Reunited

Jen laughed, relieved that was the greatest concern now facing him. “Your mom may not accept you, Eric. Demons prepare their children…I just mean…” Jen didn’t know how to tell him that his mother was now his enemy. “My dad wasn’t like that Tracker bastard. Neither is my mom.” “You’re now part of our family.” Garrett reached out and took Jen’s hand in his. “And for your valor, you’ll be inducted into the Clisneach Guard. I’ll be your mentor,” Garrett said. Jen squeezed Garrett’s hand. “But I don’t want to be a gargoyle,” Eric protested, shielding his eyes. “I’m a water demon.” Jen could tell he was trying to hide tears but his voice betrayed him. His reaction surprised her. Somehow she’d just expected him to be pleased about becoming a gargoyle warrior. “Would you rather be like those we fought tonight?” she asked. “Of course not.” He met her stare. “I told you, my dad wasn’t like them.” “They would have made you like them, Eric. If you’d chosen their path, you would have transformed into one of them. You chose good.” She tried to soothe him. “Being a gargoyle is the greatest thing you can be.” Garrett released Jen’s hand. “Now that you are awake, I need to gather a few herbs to aid your transition. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He kissed Jen on the cheek before walking toward the front of the church with his dark wings folded against his back. Jen sat down beside Eric, reminding herself the battle was over. They had won. The demons were defeated. Tracker was dead. And most importantly, she reminded herself that she would not die that night. She sat back with a deep sigh. Everything in the Legend had come true and yet, she couldn’t accept it was over. She didn’t understand how the last part could have been wrong or circumvented. “Where’s he going?” Eric mumbled. “He said something about herbs,” Jen replied. “You were so brave, Eric. You stepped in front of me and shielded me with your body.” “It was nothing.” He shook his head, clearly embarrassed. “It was everything. You saved my life. Thank you.” She reached over and clasped his hand. Garrett soon returned with several small plants he’d dug up and placed them in the baptismal font. He disappeared once more and when he returned was carrying a bucket he’d found outside. He set it down in the aisle and turned to bring the font over to Eric. After pouring the swamp water into the font, he stirred his hand through the water. “What do you intend to do with that?” Eric sat forward. “You have to be anointed, Eric. It’s part of the ritual.” “Oh, no. Not with nasty swamp water, man.”

263

Sally Painter

“I will bless it,” Garrett said. “It’ll transform into holy water.” “Holy water? Don’t you get it, man? My father was a demon and his father before him. My mom’s a demon. Hell, my entire ancestry is demon.” “You can protest all you like, Eric, but you are no longer a demon. It’s done. There’s no undoing it. This will sanctify and seal your choice.” “And if I don’t seal it?” “It won’t matter, the transformation will still happen, only it’ll be incredibly painful.” “Man, why didn’t my dad tell me about this?” He glanced at Jen. “Maybe he just wanted you to be like him,” she said, drawing her arm around his shoulders. “Demons don’t want their children transforming into their enemies,” Garrett said. “I never expected this,” Eric said, shaking his head. “My dad had it all planned out. I expected to be a water demon all my life.” “Trust me, you’ll be much happier as a gargoyle. We’re the good guys,” Garrett smiled. “Yeah, that’s not what my dad said you were. And my dad was a good person.” Eric shot him an angry glare. “Things have changed. The rogues are healed.” “Huh? How?” “Look, Eric. There will be time to discuss everything that’s happened. Right now let Garrett do what he must to help you. You don’t want to suffer needlessly.” Eventually Eric agreed and Garrett lifted the wooden lid from the font and dipped his hand into the water, swirling the plants until they sank. He said something in the gargoyle language he’d used earlier on the boat and then cupped his hand into the water. Holding it above Eric’s head, he let the water spill over the teenager and then flattened his palm on Eric’s scalp. “So it is with all eternity from this moment forward, you belong to the world. You will vow to serve as protector of all humans against demons. So it has always been and so it shall remain.” “Amen,” Jen said, then blushed realizing it wasn’t a prayer but an oath. “Do you defy evil, Eric?” Garrett asked, staring down at the young man. “Well, I did tonight, didn’t I?” “Eric,” Jen reprimanded. “I defy evil,” he said. “Do you reject evil?” “I reject it.” “Will you defend the innocent from evil?” Garrett asked with an intense stare.

264

Reunited

“I will defend for as long as I live.” “Good, eternity is a long time,” Garrett smiled. “You mean…I’m immortal?” His eyes widened and he looked from Garrett to Jen. “Yes,” Garrett said. “Damn cool! Demons aren’t immortal.” “I know.” Garrett winked at Jen and turned to carry the font back to the front of the church. Just as he lowered it to the floor, the front door banged open. Jen turned in the pew. “I knew you were alive,” Tracker said. He stood taller than she remembered. His twisted face was set in a dark scowl. It was impossible yet there he stood. Her heart slammed against her chest. She hadn’t cheated fate. “Garrett!” “You’ve made your last mistake by coming here.” Garrett stepped from the altar and started toward her. “You killed my brother, you freak.” “You killed your own brother.” Garrett expanded his wings. Tracker stood in the doorway as though trying to decide whether to chance entering or remain where he was. “Come here and get behind me, Jen.” Garrett motioned and just as she stood, Tracker lunged into the church. Yelling, he pounced on Garrett before she could react. The demon’s scaly skin burst into flames, but to her relief, Garrett appeared immune to the fire. Tracker drew back his other arm and slammed his fist into Garrett’s chest, sending him across the church and crashing into the altar. When Garrett didn’t stand, Jen knew he was hurt. “You have not won, Dermonté!” he screamed, raising a ruby encrusted dagger. Jen immediately recognized it from her research. It was the only instrument that could kill the Reconciler. “First I’m going to take your wings.” He started for Garrett. “No!” Jen grabbed his fiery arm. The flames consumed her hand and she screamed as the fire singed her flesh. “Pray to your God, Reconciler, because you die tonight.” His clothes ignited and the flames seemed to consume him, but he was still strong. Still powerful. “Jen!” Garrett struggled to his feet. “Help her!” Eric cried and attempted to rise from the pew. “Fulfill your destiny, Reconciler, and die!” His twisted face seemed to be melting under the flames and contorted into a horrifying image.

265

Sally Painter

Jen looked back at Garrett, longing for things to have ended differently, but she couldn’t let him die. Eric sat up, letting out an agonized scream when he tried to stand. The dagger’s blade glinted in the light and the fire engulfed her arm. Jen shrieked under the unbearable pain. The smell of burning flesh and hair filled her nostrils and her mind rejected the truth. She was going to die after all. “No!” Eric reached for her again but fell from the pew onto the floor. Garrett lifted from the floor and flew toward them. Her flesh sizzled under the blaze. Scenes of her life flashed before her. The night Garrett had saved her and today on the houseboat. “Garrett!” The sob wrenched from her. She didn’t want to leave him. Tears blurred her vision as she watched him flying toward her. His desperate look pierced her heart. She knew he would not be fast enough to save her. Garrett yelled, barreling toward Tracker, watching in horror as fire engulfed Jen’s arm. Eric yelled and gripped the back of the pew, trying to stand, but fell onto the floor. The steel arc of the knife sliced through the air. Its reflection blinded Garrett. Jen’s scream ripped through his soul. The sound of the blade plunging into her heart made him roar. He felt the jagged blade tear through her, ripping muscle and flesh and chipping her ribs as it cut through her heart. The demon dropped her limp body and Eric threw a blanket over her arm, extinguishing the flames, and fell onto the floor beside her. “Jen! Jen,” he sobbed. She gasped for breath. A pool of blood flooded underneath her. Garrett reached Tracker and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. Flames licked his flesh as he held the demon and rose high above the floor, carrying the burning creature past the torn roof. He stopped and stared down through blurry eyes at Jen’s lifeless body. The sight of her blood pumping out of her sent a savage roar quaking through him. The world shook. “You bastard!” he snarled and snapped Tracker’s neck. He dropped him and fire incinerated the creature before it hit the floor. Swooping down, Garrett rushed over to Jen. He kneeled beside her and gathered her limp body into his arms. “No, Jen. No!” He buried his face in her hair. “Wake up, baby. Don’t leave me.” Her body was still warm. He kissed her lips. “Garrett!” Eric sobbed. “Do something!” Garrett couldn’t think. He knew when a mortal died, he couldn’t undo it. He laid her onto the floor and tried to resuscitate her, breathing into her mouth and trying to stop the rush of blood pumping from her heart.

266

Reunited

She smiled up at him. “I fulfilled…my destiny.” “No, Jen. Don’t leave me. Stay with me,” Garrett cried, helpless to save her. He watched the life drain from her and her eyes dull. She was gone. He howled in anguish and once more gathered her into his arms, rocking back and forth. How could he have been so careless? It had only taken a breath’s space and he’d lost her. They thought they’d cheated fate. He thought he could prevent this moment if he was vigilant enough…fast enough…smart enough. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.” Tears burned his eyes. He ran his hand over her hair. Jen had trusted him to protect her. He crushed her to him. He wanted to die and threw back his head. His roar rattled the broken window panes. He unfurled his wings and lifted from the floor, cradling her in his arms. “She can’t be dead,” Eric cried. Garrett carried her to the center of the chapel and glared at the gold cross suspended over the altar. “Where is the mercy? Where is the justice?” he shouted, looking down at her. Tears rolled from his face, splashing onto hers, and he brushed them from her ashen cheek. “Jen,” he rasped, longing for her to open her eyes. The candles seemed to glow brighter as he rose higher. Suddenly the chapel became illuminated, but it wasn’t candlelight or moonlight that chased the darkness from the church. Garrett stopped in midair, suspended by the brilliant shafts of light shooting out of the large gold cross. Three orbs of light emerged from its center and floated into the room. Soundlessly, they circled him and then elongated, gradually taking form. “Angels,” he mumbled. The chapel ruins shook under the powerful energy. Dust and debris fell to the floor. The energy pulsed toward him and Garrett tightened his arms around her lifeless body. Three golden entities manifested in front of him and outstretched their arms. They wanted him to give Jen to them. He shook his head, unable to accept the finality of her death. “Jen!” Eric’s voice bubbled with emotion. The angels waited, floating in front of Garrett. “I can’t,” he cried and buried his face into her hair. “Jen,” he sobbed. The hairs on his arms tingled and he lifted his stare to find one of the light beings had moved closer. The being held her arms out to him and reluctantly he relaxed his embrace, allowing the angel to take her. Her body brushed over his hands as the light beings moved to support her between them. “Jen.” He reached for her, wanting to take her back into his arms but he was paralyzed.

267

Sally Painter

A soft breeze stirred through the church and encircled them. It swirled clockwise moving faster until a bluish haze blurred around them. What were they doing? Could they revive her? Hope seized him. Perhaps she was not lost to him after all. The force holding him released and the beings lowered their arms. Garrett flew to catch Jen but halted when her body floated into the center of the circle created by the angels. Once more they raised their arms, this time above their heads, and a shaft of the most brilliant light he’d ever seen illuminated the entire church. A light so bright he shielded his eyes with his arm. Soft whispers filled his ears and the night disappeared, leaving only white light. Garrett squinted into the brilliance and could barely make out the outline of her body. She rose higher as the angels stretched out their arms and formed a protective circle around her. They began to move soundlessly in a clockwise circle, slowly at first, then faster and faster until they were a whirling blur. A wind gusted around them. Garrett could no longer see Jen, only a whirling mass of blue and gold. They opened their mouths and the chorus was so loud he had to cover his ears with his hands. The pitch lilted higher and the stained glass windows shattered, sending shards of colored glass onto the church floor. A sudden flash of blue light pierced his eyes and forced him to close them. Squinting, he watched the light fade and then it was gone. Jen’s body was gone. The angels were gone. Darkness rushed back in. “Where is she?” Eric yelled from the floor of the church. “Where did they take her?” Garrett glanced down at him. “Why did they take her?” Eric asked in a strained, angry tone. “I don’t know.” Garrett lowered to the floor, bowing his head. How would he survive without Jen? He ached to hold her in his arms once more. “What are we going to do now?” Eric asked between sobs. “How can we live without her?” “I…I don’t know,” Garrett said and collapsed onto the pew, running his hands through his hair. “Where did she go?” Garrett didn’t answer. He didn’t know where she’d been taken. Even though he knew she would be safe, he couldn’t find any solace. His chest ached as though his heart had been torn from him. “What are we going to do?” Eric cried. “For now, we’ll stay here,” Garrett mumbled, feeling as though his very life drained from him. “Can’t you go after her? Bring her back, Garrett!”

268

Reunited

Slowly, he stood and walked over to Eric. He bent down and lifted him from the floor and placed him back onto the pew. Eric grabbed his arm. “You have to find her. Bring her back. Bring her back, Garrett!” He covered the teenager’s hands with his. “You need a few days for the transformation to be complete.” “Jen…she…” Eric dissolved in tears, resting his head against the pew. “God, she’s dead.” “I’ll take care of you,” Garrett said. “Bel and I will teach you, and in time, you’ll grow strong again.” Garrett bowed his head. Facing eternity without his beloved was more than he could bear. He crumpled onto the pew and wept.

***** Garrett watched as Eric stared at himself in the handheld mirror. “I thought I’d look like you, Bel,” he said, sounding disappointed. “It’d be cool to have lion features or even that whole leopard look Starn has going on.” He glanced at Garrett. “I think there can only be one Panther-man. So what do I get?” He shook his head and put down the mirror. Bel tugged the silk floral bathrobe around her and sat down at the table beside Eric. “Personally, I think a gargoyle with horns is pretty sexy.” She took a sip of coffee. “Yeah? Is it the whole demon, bad-boy thing that turns you on?” Eric asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Nah,” Starn said, entering the house, holding up a box of donuts. “Bel just likes horny gargoyles.” Eric burst into laughter. Garrett chuckled and Bel shook her head. “You’re not helping form an impressionable teenage mind,” she reprimanded. “I just stopped by to see how your protégé is doing. Thought some warm donuts might help take the sting off the transformation.” “Thanks, man,” Eric opened the box and reached for a glazed donut. “So much for a healthy breakfast,” Bel said and moved to get Starn a cup of coffee. “Thanks, Bella.” Starn took the steamy cup and glanced at Garrett. Garrett shrugged and Starn sat down at the table. While the damage to their friendship hadn’t been completely mended, Garrett was working to resolve the issues. At least now they could speak civilly to each other. He smiled, knowing Jen would have been happy with his progress. She’d want him to heal his differences with Starn. He took a sip of coffee. He could finally admit to himself how much he’d missed his best friend. Starn was healed and maybe somehow

269

Sally Painter

Bel could find love with her mate again. Maybe. They had a long way to go for that to be a possibility. Still…anything was now possible. It was a new world for the gargoyles thanks to Jen. “Bulls are sexy, Eric,” Bel said and leaned over to rub long fingers between his horns. “Hey, that feels good.” Eric nuzzled her hand and purred like a cat. Garrett stood in the kitchen watching their antics and poured another cup of coffee. He stooped down to pet Jen’s cats. Tiki, a black and white Persian and Charli, a tabby, mewed, curling around his legs. Eric had identified which one was which and every time Garrett looked at them, he thought of Jen. Dressed only in a pair of lounge pants, he left the kitchen to sit on the porch. The cats padded beside him, never letting him too far out of their sight. Even though everything was returning to normal, he still felt out of sync with the world. Much of the Clisneach Guard was reunited. Those who’d either not believed or failed to hear the call to reunite had missed Jen’s healing and remained infected. He remained an enigma. The Protector of the Reconciler. Transformed and left behind. There was no real place for him in the world, not even with his own kind. He was neither rogue nor Clisneach. One of a kind and more of a loner than ever. Without Jen, it was the way he wanted to be. Alone. The early morning was hot and promised to only grow hotter as the sun rose above the bay. He chose a sunny spot and sat down in the lounge chair. Tiki jumped into his lap while Charli was content to lie at his feet. Jen’s cats brought him comfort, especially the first week after her death. He knew they missed her and a bond of longing had formed between them. He took a sip of the coffee and put the cup on the nearby table. As always his thoughts turned to her. “We still miss her, don’t we?” He petted Tiki. The feline purred while kneading her paws in his thighs. Every single moment, even his dreams, were filled with Jen. They’d had so little time together, but enough memories to relive for an eternity. He closed his eyes and drew in the sweet smell of honeysuckle and the faint hint of ocean that lay beyond the sound. What memory did he want to revisit this morning? He could just start at the beginning—that moment he’d first caught her scent. His heart beat harder and he shoved the grief aside, refusing to let the pain of her loss overshadow what they had shared. Her love had made him happy and that was how he wanted to think of her. A love that lived on after her death. He wanted to remember the way her hair shone in the sunlight whenever she tilted her head back to laugh. How they had spent their last day together on the houseboat. He wanted to remember the look in her brown eyes when he’d said he loved her. “I will always love you, Jen,” he whispered.

270

Reunited

“I love you, Garrett.” Her voice filled his mind and he smiled, grateful he could still hear her as though she stood beside him. This morning she sounded closer. He released a deep sigh. How he ached to hold her in his arms and kiss those sweet lips. Glancing across the bay, he let his gaze follow a pair of doves flying from the water. They dipped over the shrubbery and flew into the backyard, landing at the base of the statue. They rubbed their heads against each other and then flew off into the woods. Statue? He blinked. Time seemed to stop. He lifted his stare and leaned forward. Tiki slid off his lap onto the floor, followed by the morning newspaper. His heart hammered a staccato beat when he looked down into the backyard. With labored breath, Garrett swung his legs over the lounger, planting his feet firmly on the floor. Not moving his gaze, he stood and walked over to the screen wall, flattening his hands against it. “Baby?” he called down to the statue. His gaze moved over her lovely face with dovelike features locked in stone. “I’m here, my love. It’s really me, Garrett. I’ve come back to you,” Jen’s voice rang in his mind. “Jen?” Could his mind deceive him as well as his eyes? “Jen!” he shouted and bounded across the porch, unable to reach the screen door fast enough. “Garrett?” Bel opened the back door. “What are you yelling about?” she called after him as he threw open the screen door and spread his wings wide. He sailed into the yard, landing in front of the statue. “What the hell’s going on?” Starn came up behind Bel. “He was calling Jen’s name,” Bel said and walked across the porch, dodging the streams of light. “Jen?” Starn asked and followed her outside. “What happened?” Eric joined them on the porch. “Stay out of the light,” Bel warned and hurried over to the shaded corner. “Oh my God!” Bel squealed. “It’s Jen! Look! She’s come back to us.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “What the hell?” Starn said. The three of them stood, looking down at the yard with the cats weaving in and out between their legs, meowing. Tears rolled down Bel’s cheeks and Starn tugged her to him. “Look, man, she’s healed Garrett. He turned to stone when the sun hit him,” Starn said. “How did she do that?” Eric laughed, slapping Starn on the back.

271

Sally Painter

“I guess we’ll have to wait until sunset to find out,” Bel sighed and nuzzled her face against her mate’s chest, suddenly feeling hopeful she and Starn could eventually reconcile their past. “Everything’s right with the world now. Jen and Garrett are back together,” Eric said. “Just where they belong.” Starn looked down at Bel. “Reunited.” She gazed down at the couple. Both Jen and Garrett were encased in stone. Jen stood with her arms opened wide and wings outstretched behind her. Garrett had entered her open arms and cupped her face. It appeared he turned to stone just as he pressed his lips to hers in an eternal kiss.

272

About the Author The paranormal has haunted Sally all her life. The native North Carolinian lives with her husband, daughter and cat, Bow, in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Growing up just outside Charlotte, NC, meant summers along the Carolina beaches and “shagging”—a form of beach dancing. Sally knows a lot about ghosts since she's lived with them all her life, very much like the film “Sixth Sense”. Born in the South into an Irish/Scottish family where everyone was a storyteller meant all those North Carolina ghost stories were retold and new scary ones created! Invited to participate in a three-year paranormal research project, Sally at long last embraced her Celtic seer heritage. Soon she was conducting a paranormal workshop and before she knew it, in July 2005 was LIVE over the air waves. When she’s not writing for Ellora’s Cave, Sally can be found conducting her online monthly workshops and broadcasting a paranormal talk radio show, Sally’s Midnight Hour, featuring paranormal authors and research professionals. Sally welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Sally Painter All I Need All I Want Divided Love Fated Mates anthology Last Resort Sexed Up Things That Go Bump in the Night VI anthology To Kiss a Gargoyle

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com