"Not quite," I answered, and got to my feet. "I need a rune first."
"But…you have a rune."
"I'm going to use the blouse to hide the one on my neck. I need one on my arm. In blue ink."
"Why do you need a rune on your arm?" Sophie asked as she followed me across the hall into Reason's room.
I rummaged through my cousin's art supplies and picked out a bright, electric blue marker with a fine tip. "To convince the harpies there are more gargoyles out there to be gotten."
Sophie's gaze turned distant as we returned to Camie's room. "Mac wears a tattoo on her arm," she said slowly. "It's the same symbol Valor wears on his neck."
"That's right," I said softly, my eyes traveling to her upper arm where I wanted my rune to be.
"Whitney and Mim and Elaina…"
"Samantha and Camie and Lorissa. And Torrie," I said. "They all wear their boyfriends' runes."
"Torrie?" she questioned, tilting her head.
"She wears it on her palm," I explained, knowing that the little blonde's rune wasn't easy to see.
"Ah," she murmured.
"A gargoyle marks his lass with his rune," I explained briefly, dropping onto the stool in front of the vanity again. "So a rune on my arm will suggest that I belong to a gargoyle. If the harpies think that's true, they'll leave the bunker and go looking for more gargoyles."
I gripped the marker in my fingers and tried to position the colorful tip on my shoulder. But I couldn't get a good angle…and I didn't want to make a mess of the rune. I lifted my gaze to Sophie's face. "I think I'm going to need help."
She took a deep breath and smiled. "I think I can do that."
"Good," I murmured, my pulse quickening at the thought of being that close to her again.
Her fingers wrapped around my arm. Her touch on my skin sent a shot of heat through my frame that was both comforting and unsettling. It's strange what the right girl can do to a guy. How she can be both the promise of quiet warmth and raging fire. And I wanted all of it—the warmth and the fire. As much as I could get for the rest of my life.
"What should I make this look like?" she asked, interrupting my wandering thoughts.
"Just copy this one," I said, pointing a shaking finger to the symbol on my neck.
And with a look of concentration pulling her eyebrows together, she started drawing on my arm.
I was surprised to find I wasn't the only one whose hand was shaking.
"You're…trembling," I pointed out from beneath the thick haze that had settled over me and made everything so difficult to operate. Like my lips, for instance. They were supposed to be forming words. Instead, all they could think of was diving in for a kiss.
"I'm just nervous," she said, her voice breathless. "I want to do a good job. I don't want this fake rune to be the thing that gives you away."
"Hmmm," I answered, pulling in a deep breath laced with her feminine scent.
"Havoc," she said, her voice quavering. "I'm worried."
"So am I," I answered, dragging myself out of the spell she'd cast on me. I took another breath to clear my head. "But I'll get my family out of there."
She finished the last stroke of my rune and released my arm. I watched her put the pen on top of the dresser. "That's the thing," she said hesitantly. "I know I should be worried about the pack—especially Mac. But Havoc, I'm worried about you."
"Me?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. I-If anything happened to you…"
I waited for her to go on. But she didn't. She just kept staring into my eyes like she didn't know what to say next. She was obviously struggling so I let her off the hook. "If anything happens to me, you'll have Ian," I told her quietly.
"Ian," she echoed and opened her mouth to say more.
But I didn't want to hear about her boyfriend. Not if I could avoid it. Shooting off of the stool, I grabbed the two jackets I'd thrown on the bed earlier. "So, what do you think?" I asked, forcing a cheerful note into my voice as I lifted them up for her consideration.
"I don't know," she said slowly, like she was trying to pull herself together. "Is there anything else in the closet?"
"You're right. Just not me," I agreed, throwing the jackets on the bed and turning to search the closet again, finally finding just-the-thing at the very back and pulling it out. I held the short coat up for her approval.
"Red vinyl?" Sophie questioned.
"So sixties," I murmured. I ran my fingertips over the glossy fabric.
"So you," Sophie said with a soft giggle that had me staring at her. She was just so…irresistible. I wanted to drop the coat on the floor and grab her and fall backward on the bed with her in my arms…
"The jacket's perfect," she said, interrupting my fantasies with an encouraging smile.
I cleared the lump that had lodged in my throat. "We'll have to tear out one of the arms," I mused.
"Why?"
"All part of the plan," I answered, giving the right sleeve a sharp yank and separating it from the jacket. "This way, the harpies will be able to see the rune."
"But how will you explain the missing arm?"
That was a good question. And I didn't have an answer. Neither did Mitch or Hooligan. Maybe I should have thought about that before I ripped off the sleeve. But it was too late now.
"I'll…worry about that later," I muttered, and reached for the blouse. Once I had it on, the rune on my arm was visible through the sheer sleeve but veiled enough that you couldn't tell it was a fake. The red jacket went on top.
Then we raided Mac's room downstairs for wooden jewelry. She has a ton of it so she can do magic whenever the fancy hits her. Of course, the harpies wouldn't put me in with the girls if they knew I was wearing wooden jewelry so we looked for painted pieces in the tall case that Valor had built for Mac.
"I don't want to wear a lot of jewelry," I murmured as we sorted through the beads and bracelets nestled in the velvet-lined drawers. "I don't want to draw attention to the jewelry. The harpies might get suspicious."
"Good thinking," Sophie agreed.
I picked out a long double strand of red beads and two bangles in the same color before heading back to Camie's room. The finishing touch was a pair of ivory gloves we found in a short stack of vintage clothing. They covered the green latex gloves and hid them from view.
"What does Camie do with all this stuff?" Sophie asked, bemused by the pile of antique clothing.
"She sells it online," I answered, and straightened my cuffs. "To help pay for her education."
"Ah," she answered, looking impressed.
I turned to the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door and checked out my reflection. I was still wearing the slacks I'd worn to the engagement party. "If you think the slacks and boots work, I guess I'm ready."
"The boots are okay but the gloves make you look a little…eccentric," she said, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
"I can work with that," I muttered. My gaze drifted to the girl standing beside me in the mirror. "I don't care if I look eccentric as long as I look like an eccentric girl."
"I don't know, Havoc."
I spun around to face the harpy. "What do you think, Mitch? Do I look like a girl?"
Mitch sent me a sour look so I guessed that meant I looked very fetching.
"You look good but…there's something missing," Sophie finally said, tapping her finger against her cheek.
"What?" I demanded, and turned to the mirror again.
She moved closer until her hip touched mine. The warm contact threw my equilibrium out of balance. Actually, it threw my equilibrium to the dogs. I could barely draw a breath.
"See?" she said.
"See what?" I croaked, my throat dry.
"Hips," she said.
Aye, hips, I thought. I was quite aware of her hips. And they were glorious.
"Look," she insisted.
So I pulled in a deep breath and looked at my reflection. Almost immediately, it was obvious what I w
as missing. "I could do with a few curves," I admitted. "But there's not much I can do about my hips."
"Maybe not," she agreed. "But we can fix that chest."
"We can?" I asked.
She nodded. "Where's Torrie's room?"
Grinning, I picked up Mitch and led the way.
In Torrie's round turret bedroom we went to work again, finding a bra in her top drawer that we thought would do the trick. And under Sophie's direction, I started to stuff the cups with tissues. Then I got an idea. Leaving Sophie and Mitch in Hooligan's care, I made a quick trip to the workshop after stopping in the kitchen for a couple of small plastic bags. When we were done, we'd filled out my figure nicely.
"What's the next step?" Sophie asked, finally satisfied.
I shrugged. "As soon as dusk falls, I go knock on the door of that harpy holdout."
She didn't seem to like my answer. "What are you going to do when you get there?"
"I'm going to do what I do best," I said, flashing a grin at her. "I'm going to create havoc."
She lowered herself onto an upholstered chair nestled against the curved turret wall. "And?" she questioned.
But I had completely lost the plot, standing there and wondering why girls look so good when they sit with their legs crossed. You know, normal stuff for a guy my age. But then my wondering turned serious. And as my gaze lifted to her face, I wondered how I had managed to screw everything up between Sophie and me. How could I have blown things so completely? And how could I have let this wonderful girl get away? Too late, I realized I should have groveled when I'd had the chance. I should have begged for her forgiveness back on prom night.
Giving myself a mental shake, I forced my attention back to the situation at hand.
"I knock on the door and tell them I'm looking for my pack. They see the rune on my arm and throw me into the cage with the girls. Then they all leave and come back here to pick up any gargoyles they might have missed. While they're gone, I give Lorissa my wooden bangle and she blows the doors off the joint."
"Then what?"
"Then we all go home."
"But won't the harpies just follow you back here again?"
"You're right," I agreed, and quickly revised my plan. "The pack will have to wait for the harpies to come back to the hideout and finish them off when they get there."
I searched her face for approval, but she still looked troubled.
Finally she said, "I'm sorry, Havoc, but I don't think you've thought this through."
Which was almost like saying I wasn't taking things seriously. That was a blow. How could I make her understand that I could be as serious as the best of them?
"They're going to be suspicious," she said. "Why would a girl go there alone? And how would she know her friends had been taken there in the first place?"
"I suppose you have a better idea?" I growled.
"Maybe," she answered, and her gaze slipped to the harpy sitting in a matching chair a few feet away.
Mitch returned her look with a suspicious stare. "What?" she rasped.
"The whole story would sound a lot better coming from a harpy," Sophie pointed out delicately.
Mitch gave me a blank look. "What she mean?"
Sophie explained. "I was just thinking it would be better if you carried Havoc back to the hideout. You could say that you hung around after the others had left, hoping another gargoyle would turn up. And one did! In fact, several gargoyles came to the house. There were too many to face off against. But you captured one of their girls," she said, sweeping her hand in my direction, "and took her back to the bunker to prove there were more gargoyles."
Mitschka responded with a "hmph".
"That way, Havoc would even have an explanation for his missing sleeve," Sophie went on, and caught my eye. "Mitschka could say she tore if off during the struggle."
I had reservations about Sophie's plan.
So did the harpy.
"Harpies kill Mitschka when they know it all a lie."
"By then, the boys will have escaped from their prison," Sophie argued. "They'll be able to protect you."
"Mitschka die," the harpy insisted. "Other harpies make sure Mitschka die for betrayal."
Sophie turned a tentative look in my direction, like she was hoping I'd back her up.
But I wasn't in the mood to invite a harpy along on my rescue mission. "What's to stop Mitch from turning on me when we get there?" I argued. "What if she betrays me and hands me over to her gang?"
Mitch was incensed that I would suggest such a thing. "Havoc think only gargoyles have honor? Harpies not even Mitschka's gang. Mitschka not like harpies and their Gangboss. Mitschka like gargoyles more. Like Havoc!"
I looked at both females—one angry, the other hopeful and determined. "You're in no condition to help," I told the harpy in a growl. "You're too weak. If the harpies do strike out at you, you won't be strong enough to defend yourself. You'll die, just like you said."
The harpy took her time getting back to me on that. "Big risk for Mitschka," she finally muttered. "But…"
"But what?" Sophie asked, jumping on the opening.
"Mitschka maybe help," the harpy said slowly. "Mitschka take Havoc to the hideout if…"
I knew what was coming next.
"…if Havoc give Mitschka his rune."
Sophie's eyes lit up. Obviously, she thought she had hit on the perfect solution. Of course, she didn't know what Mitch was asking. She didn't know what I'd be losing if I gave my rune to the harpy.
"I can't do that," I said, and opened my mouth to explain.
But Sophie cut in before I could get going. "Havoc, you're not taking this seriously."
And that made me angry. Hadn't Sophie learned by now that I could be serious when I needed to be? Wasn't I serious when I killed that harpy last night? And what about those damn mountain lions?
"Fine," I shouted. "Have it your way. You're probably going back to Ian when this is over, anyway. Right?"
"Ian…" she said, as if she'd forgotten there was a guy named Ian in her life.
"Well, aren't you?" I demanded.
"That…would probably be the smart thing to do," she agreed. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"We're good then," I said spinning away from her and facing Mitch before I had a chance to think things through and change my mind. Because if Sophie was going back to Ian, I wouldn't be needing my damn rune anyway. Like ever. I pulled in a deep breath and said to Mitch, "If you help me rescue my family, I'll give you my rune."
Chapter Seventeen
There it was, out in the open, written in stone. Because I never go back on my word.
Mitch looked stunned, like she couldn't believe her ears. "Havoc not trick harpy?"
"Sophie?" I ground out from between my clenched teeth.
"Havoc always keeps his promises," she told the harpy solemnly.
The harpy didn't waste any time making up her mind. "Mitschka take Havoc to harpy hiding place," she said.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" I growled, eyeing the wide bandages that wrapped the harpy's neck. Dark blood stained the white fabric but none of the red color looked bright or fresh.
Mitch's gnarled fingers wrapped around the arms of the chair as she levered herself to her feet. The tartan quilt fell to the floor as she tottered slightly, and I sent her a doubtful look. "Mitch be better in the air," she said.
I nodded. "Then let's do this," I muttered, and led the way downstairs.
"What about weapons?" Sophie asked when we reached the foyer on the main level.
I flicked an impatient look back over my shoulder at her. "I can't go in there with a bunch of knives strapped to my hip."
"Yeah, I get that," she said. "But couldn't you carry a bag of knives over your shoulder and leave it somewhere outside the bunker before you go in? Then the weapons will be waiting for you when you come back out with the rest of the pack."
"Might get caught," Mitschka said. "Might be harpies
on the look out."
"Mitch is right," I said. "Besides, if Rafe's at the quarry, there'll be no shortage of weapons."
"Oh," Sophie said, turning pale as the full meaning of that argument hit home.
"Okay, let's get you out of here," I told her, roughening my voice to hide my emotions. I was in a tough place. I hated to leave her. I hated to say goodbye. But this was one of those cases where nothing less than goodbye would get the job done. We had to separate.
"But I have a ride coming at nine."
"Call and cancel," I ordered. "You're taking Mac's Jeep and leaving. You can't be here when the harpies return to look for gargoyles."
Her expression was stricken. I didn't understand why she seemed so upset. Certainly she must have known this was coming, that we'd have to split up. But that look on her face was hard to take. I had to force myself to look away. "Where are your shoes?" I growled.
"I-I think they might still be in the workshop," she answered.
So we got her shoes rounded up and, moments later, Sophie and I stood beside Mac's car in the driveway. Mitch leaned against the open doorframe, watching us closely while Hooligan hung back in the shadowed foyer.
"Time to go," I told Sophie, dropping the Jeep's keys into her hand. "Take Hooligan back to your place in Denver. Don't come back here until one of the pack contacts you by phone."
"One of the pack?"
"I'll try to get in touch but…"
"But what?"
"If things go badly…"
Sophie turned to the harpy. "What is Havoc trying to tell me, Mitch?"
"Harpies be mad they were tricked," Mitch explained bluntly. "Normally wouldn't waste the life of a gargoyle. But if things go badly, might kill one gargoyle to teach others a lesson."
Sophie turned back to me. "And you'd be the gargoyle they'd pick for the lesson?"
I rolled my shoulders in an offhand shrug. "They'll be angry about the way things turned out. About the betrayal. They'll be mad at me…and Mitch."
She turned to the harpy again. "Is that true?"
"If Havoc dead, Mitschka dead too."
The color left Sophie's face again. "Havoc," she started. "Couldn't I…go with you?"
Havoc Page 11
