Havoc

by Taylor Longford

  "Did it work?"

  "Aye. Perhaps too well. Since the harpies couldn't capture us, they walled us in at the back of the hut. And there we waited through the centuries until MacKenzie's stepfather bought the house that had been built up around the original stone croft. He started stripping the building for old fixtures and other things of value. He found us behind the wall."

  "And shipped you here to Colorado," Sophie said.

  "Aye," I answered.

  Sophie sighed and the next several minutes passed in silence while I wrestled privately with the thing I needed to say next. Finally, I worked it out. "I wish I'd been there," I murmured.

  "Where?" she asked.

  "I wish I'd been there to hear you sing at your high school musical. I'm sorry I missed it."

  "Why…weren't you there?" she asked after a quiet moment. "Why didn't you come? You could have spared one day, couldn't have you?"

  "I wanted to surprise you when you first saw me after four years, and realized…I hadn't aged."

  "I don't think I would have noticed," she said. "I certainly didn't notice when you showed up at prom. It never occurred to me that you were sixteen rather than twenty."

  "I also wanted to keep my word," I said.

  "I don't understand."

  "I promised I'd be sixteen when I took you to prom."

  "You didn't make that promise to me," she exclaimed softly.

  She was right. I had made the vow in front of my pack after Mac had suggested it would be impossible for me to live out four years without a girlfriend…and I had agreed that it wouldn't work. I had decided to go stone so my philandering ways wouldn't hurt Sophie.

  "I'm sorry," I told her in a low voice. "I thought I was doing the right thing when I went stone for four years. And I guess I'm a little OCD when it comes to my promises."

  "Why's that?" she asked.

  "I have my reasons," I answered in a low voice.

  She was silent for so long that I thought perhaps she was finally dozing off. "Havoc, about what happened earlier…"

  "How much earlier?" I asked when her voice trailed away. Inconveniently, my guilty conscience raised its rebellious head again. "Do you mean earlier when I ruined the prom? Or earlier on the roof of that hotel? Or earlier when I snapped off the heel of your shoe?"

  "None of the above," she said. "I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about Ian and what I said when we were in the workshop."

  But I did not want to hear about her P.F.C. and how perfect he was and how much she loved him. I didn't want anything rattling my confidence right then because I was going to need every last ounce of it if I was going to rescue my family. I cut her off as fast as possible.

  "I understand about Ian," I told her just as sincerely as I could. "I know how you feel about him."

  "Well, I'm not sure you do."

  "Sophie," I cut in. "I can't talk about this right now. Let's schedule this conversation for a later date, okay? Let's get the pack back. After that, you can tell me about Ian."

  She gazed back at me uncertainly and opened her mouth to argue.

  I never gave her a chance.

  "I know you like Ian a lot," I cut in again. "And you should probably know that I like girls a lot. Lots of girls a lot," I said, babbling like an idiot. Anything to stop her from telling me how much she liked Ian. "You're a very pretty young…thing. But you were only ever meant to be one of my many conquests. Everyone knows what a gadabout I am."

  "Gadabout?"

  "Player," I translated. "But when I was done with you, I would have moved on…to other girls."

  My lie had the effect I was going for; I knew the second she shut down. I saw it in her eyes. Her gaze went from being open and vulnerable to shuttered and hurt.

  "So—uh—Ian is probably a much better long-term choice for you. Or short-term choice. Or any kind of fricking choice," I gritted unhappily.

  She lowered her gaze. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she said in a voice that was quiet but still strong.

  "You said we could always be friends," I told her. "I'd like that."

  She managed a resigned smile. "Okay," she agreed.

  "Get some sleep," I told her and dragged my attention back to the harpy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The night crawled on and the sky lightened with the dawn as I waited to learn something about my family. But I wasn't in full panic mode because I knew the harpies wouldn't harm my brothers and cousins. Neither could they claim any of my family's runes because all of the boys were already bound to their lasses.

  As for the girls, if the harpies wanted the boys to cooperate, they'd only threaten to hurt the lasses. They wouldn't follow through with any of those threats unless the boys refused to cooperate. And the boys wouldn't waste any time giving the old tarts what they wanted—their venom. Of course, that venom would work over time to make the harpies virtually indestructible…but that wouldn't happen right away. It would take a few weeks.

  So things could have been much worse and I wasn't in a panic.

  Not yet, anyway.

  As I waited for the harpy to wake, I thought about my near miss the night before—how the latex gloves had saved me from being captured with the rest of my family. How far away were the harpies now, I wondered. Five miles? Ten? If they were close, they'd scent my venom as soon as I removed the latex gloves. But I'd have to take the chance.

  And as soon as the harpy opened her eyes, I pulled back one of my gloves until it cleared my knuckles, made a fist and coaxed my barbs from beneath my hackles. Angling the sharp spikes over the harpy's face, I let a few drops of poison trickle down over my fingers and fall into the corner of her mouth.

  The harpy's nostrils flared and she blinked a few times. Then her dark pointed tongue flicked from between her lips and drew the poison into her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned.

  I smiled despite myself. "Want some more?" I asked softly, and gave her a few more drops.

  Her shiny black eyes opened and fixed on me hungrily.

  I lowered my knuckles to her mouth and let the blue stuff flow freely while she sucked it down her throat.

  "Good," she croaked between noisy gulps. "So good."

  "Glad you're feeling better," I said, drawing my hand away when I figured she'd had enough for the time being.

  The creature moved her gaze from my hand to my face. "Gargoyle save Mitschka's life," she rasped.

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned. "Aye, but don't tell the rest of my family. I have a reputation to uphold. In the meantime, I hope your gratitude will make you consider me favorably."

  That was too many big words for the young harpy. "What gargoyle mean?" she demanded.

  "I need your help," I told her plainly.

  She batted her eyelids. "Mitschka do anything for pretty gargoyle."

  "I'm glad to hear that," I answered, grimacing at the harpy's attempt at intimacy. "Because I need to know where my family and friends are."

  Her gaze darted across the room, to the ceiling, to the floor, to the end of the couch. Anywhere but my face. Okay, so that was a question she didn't want to answer. At least not right away.

  Reaching out, I took her chin between my thumb and my finger, and turned her face back in my direction. "Mitschka, what happened here?"

  "Harpy army," she answered in her gravelly voice.

  "An army?" I questioned her. "How large? How many in the army?"

  "Many," she answered. "Big many."

  "Could you quantify that with a number?" I asked reasonably.

  Too many big words again.

  "Ten?" I suggested. "Twenty? Thirty?"

  The harpy scowled. "Don't know. Can't count. Just many."

  "Okay," I sighed. "So, many harpies came to my home. And what happened next?"

  "Harpies steal all the gargoyles."

  "All but me," I pointed out. "But wasn't there a fight?"

  "Gargoyles try to fight but no weapons. Gargoyles try to protect girls. Try to get girls in
house."

  "But some of the harpies died," I pointed out.

  It took a while for the harpy to accept this fact—like she'd rejected the idea outright and was now forced to face the truth. "Little yellow-haired girl work together with one of the gargoyles," she muttered. "Little girl strong. Gargoyle with brown and white hair take knife from cake and kill harpy in the chest."

  "Torrie and Chaos," I murmured.

  Mitschka's scowl deepened and her eyes flicked across the room to Hooligan. "Bad dog kill some. Red hair witches fight too. Two harpies fall from sky. Dead."

  Lorissa, I thought, warmed to the heart.

  "Big wind comes and almost blows harpies away. How that happen?"

  "MacKenzie," I answered, more to myself than to the harpy. She had tried to protect the pack by changing the weather. "She's a very powerful witch."

  "Harpies take all wood from witches," Mitschka gurgled with a satisfied gleam in her beady stare. "Then harpies steal all girls too, so make gargoyles be good and give what harpies want."

  "Venom," I murmured.

  "Yes," the harpy answered, and licked her lips while her gaze traveled to my hands. "Gargoyle venom."

  Leaning forward, I milked my veins and dribbled some more poison into her mouth. "Where did the harpies take the gargoyles?"

  Mitschka's gaze bounced away for several seconds then returned to my hands. "Mitschka can't say. Other harpies be angry at Mitschka."

  "That's probably true," I said. "On the other hand, if you do tell me, you'll have my entire pack at your beck and call, feeding you their venom twenty-four hours a day. How would you like that?"

  Obviously torn, the harpy groaned at the thought. "Gargoyles let Mitschka stay with them? Live with them?"

  "Aye," I answered softly. "If you help, we'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

  "Take care?" Mitschka scowled. "Mitschka not need anyone's care."

  "Of course not," I scrambled back quickly, surprised by the harpy's attitude. I'd never met a proud harpy before. "But Mitschka will be a friend forever."

  "Friend?" The harpy seemed to be testing the word out, like she'd never had the chance to use it before. "Pretty gargoyle give Mitschka more? More than friendship?"

  "I can't give you my rune," I told her carefully. "But I can promise you as much venom as you can drink. For the rest of your life."

  "Gargoyle keep promise?"

  "Havoc always keeps his word," I vowed.

  The harpy's eyes widened at the sound of my name. "Havoc," she whispered like she was saying a prayer. "Havoc the wild. Havoc is one of the nine."

  "Aye," I replied, not sure what she was getting at. "There are nine gargoyles in my pack. I'm one of them. Your harpy army has the other eight."

  A distant look of pleasure softened her black gaze as she thought about this for a while. "Hiding place not far," she finally said.

  Now we were getting somewhere. "How far?"

  "Get there fast," she answered. "North of here. But harpies mustn't know Mitschka helped."

  "They won't find out from me," I assured her. And reaching sideways, I grabbed Mim's laptop from the coffee table between the couches. Resting the computer on my knee, I pulled up a satellite image of Boulder. I angled the screen in Mitschka's direction so she could see it. "Here's where we are," I said, pointing at the rooftop of our house. "Where have the harpies taken my family?"

  Mitschka peered at the image on the laptop. "How you do this magic?" she rasped. "How Havoc get perfect picture of the land from above ground?"

  "It's called modern technology," I answered. "And would take months to explain. I think you'll agree we don't have that kind of time?"

  Mitschka gave me a sour look. "Havoc explain one day?"

  "Havoc will explain," I promised.

  Apparently satisfied, the harpy pointed a gnarled finger at the map. "There," she croaked.

  "Good," I muttered, zooming in on the area she'd indicated. It was off the road a ways, a large bare area on the edge of a small town north of Boulder. There was a sharp-edged lake on the property and a square building that looked a bit like a bunker built against a vertical cliff face. "Good," I said again. Now I knew where the harpies were holding my family. "Tell me about the hiding place."

  "More venom," she answered. "More venom first."

  I nodded. Even though she wasn't pure evil, she was still a harpy, and a shrewd negotiator by nature. Lifting my hand to her face, I gave her what she wanted.

  "Big room," she told me after she had licked the last trace of poison from her lips. She indicated the bunker-like building with her finger. "Gargoyles to be on one side. Girls on other side."

  "It's like a prison?" I asked uneasily.

  "Yes," she answered. "Steel bars. Big cages. One cage for gargoyles. One cage for girls. Harpies in the middle to keep watch."

  Leaning back in the chair, I banked my barbs and pulled the latex gloves back over my hand. The news wasn't good. But at least it was news. I knew where my family was…and they weren't too far away. I smiled down at the harpy and said, "Thanks, Mitch."

  Our voices had finally woken Sophie. I watched as she sat up and stretched. Then, slipping her legs off the couch, she stood and made her way around the coffee table. When she reached me, she perched on the edge of my chair.

  Right away, my pulse thickened, my heartbeat drumming in my ears as my gaze went to her face like a moth to candlelight. I couldn't drag my eyes from her perfect profile. I cleared my throat. "Mitch has shown me where my family is."

  "Mitch?" Sophie questioned.

  The harpy's beady eyes narrowed with jealousy. "Who is Girly-girl?" she demanded.

  I lifted a hand and swept it between the two females—one an example of the best a girl could be, the other holding almost the opposite end of the scale. "Mitschka, meet Sophie Kowalski. Sophie, this is Mitch."

  "Hello," Sophie said with genuine warmth. "How are you feeling this morning?"

  Mitch's accusing gaze jumped to my face. "Havoc love Girly-girl?"

  "Nay," I answered swiftly.

  "No," Sophie answered at the same time.

  And for the next several seconds, we stared at each other, Sophie looking as surprised—and betrayed—as I felt. But why should she feel betrayed when she'd made it clear that her future was tied to Ian's cart? Whatever. Don't go there, I told myself while Mitch's eyes narrowed like she didn't believe either of us.

  But I needed the harpy to believe us. I needed to win her friendship, at a minimum. Her love would work even better. "Sophie has a boyfriend," I said, my voice only hitching a little bit on that last word. I turned to Sophie and gave her a quick look, silently demanding her cooperation.

  "That's right," Sophie said, her voice quavering for some reason. "I have a boyfriend. A very nice boyfriend."

  "And that's enough," I said, shutting her down and showing her the map on the laptop. "This is where the harpies are holding the pack."

  Sophie frowned at the screen. "It looks like a quarry."

  "Quarry?"

  Sophie nodded. "A place where rock is mined from the surface of the ground. See this large empty area? That's where they've removed the rock. And this lake is a place where water has filled in a mined-out hole."

  I studied the map and nodded. The bottom line was that the location was a large, uninhabited area. Winged creatures (like harpies and gargoyles) could fly in and out and have a reasonable expectation of not being discovered. That would work in my favor. And the large lake might come in handy as well. A harpy that fell in the water would be doomed. Because harpies…well, they swim like a rock. Which is to say, not at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "So, what's next?" Sophie asked.

  "We'll have to wait until dusk before I can do anything," I told her. "I don't want to fly in the daytime and risk being spotted."

  "And then what?"

  "Rescue," I answered in one short word.

  I pulled in a huge yawn, realizing I was both tir
ed and hungry. It was mid-morning and I hadn't eaten or slept in a long time. "How about some breakfast?" I asked Sophie as the harpy nodded off.

  "That sounds good," she answered.

  We left Hooligan to guard Mitch while we set off for the back of the house. Before I started cooking, I took food and water to Hooligan and set the two bowls on the floor in front of him. Then I returned to the kitchen and started some scrambled eggs while Sophie took care of the toast.

  "What are you smiling about?" she asked when she caught me watching her.

  "Nothing," I murmured as I stirred the eggs in the pan. "You…just seem so grown up."

  "People tend to do that when time passes," she pointed out.

  "Aye. But you're so…different than you were when you were young."

  "How so?"

  "I don't know. You were just so shy. And now you have so much confidence. How'd that happen?"

  "I'm not sure," she answered. "I guess competing in track helped; it didn't hurt that I won a lot. And I suppose my theater classes helped. The stage tends to force you out of yourself and…prove yourself."

  I scooped the golden eggs from the pan and onto plates while Sophie added the buttered toast.

  "Shouldn't we save some for Mitch?" Sophie asked.

  "She'll want her eggs raw," I answered.

  And when we'd finished our quick breakfast, I pulled a tall glass from the cupboard and cracked four eggs into it.

  "Aren't you going to at least mix them up?" Sophie asked.

  "Don't let Mitch hear you suggesting that," I said. "The very idea will ruin her appetite."

  Sophie's smile warmed me as I picked up the glass and headed to the living room.

  "Good dog," I told Hooligan when I got there and found him exactly where I'd left him, his gaze riveted on the harpy. Gently, I woke Mitch and lifted her head so she could drink down the raw eggs.

  "Good eggs?" I asked after the harpy had swallowed half of the glass's contents.

  "Not as good as meat," Mitch rasped.

  "It's a little early in the day for a heavy meal," I pointed out.

  Mitch's gaze swung toward Hooligan.