by Lenore Wolfe
FOURTEEN
DAHM
Dante watched from high up in a tree as the Gargoyle tried to get a sense of where he’d disappeared to this time. He’d grown tired of this game long ago. Thorick was like a bloodhound. Once he got the scent of him—he wouldn’t let go.
“You’re starting to bug me,” he said under his breath.
If Dante hadn’t been out to stop those stupid meddling witches from bringing back the Gargoyles, more-or-less gathering the Daughters, and hadn’t been kept so busy trying to prevent them from being born—he’d have fixed that Gargoyle’s butt by now.
Well, some things couldn’t get left to chance. And the witches took too much of his time.
Now, this stupid Gargoyle blocked him every time he turned around—showing up whenever he tried to get close to that girl who’d disappeared, all those years, ago. Dante needed something permanent to end that Gargoyle, now.
No doubt about it.
If he didn’t take the time to stop Thorick soon—he’d just keep getting in his way. Yet—what to do about him. If he hadn’t managed to finish him in over three hundred years, what made him think he’d figure a way to do it now?
Dante’s lip curled as he spotted Thorick slicing through the trees.
He needed to find a way to deal with him, once and for all. But how?
Dante slid through the shadows, the Gargoyle hot in pursuit. The more Dante moved, the quicker the Gargoyle’s keen senses picked him out.
Finally, Dante slipped into another realm then shimmered into a cemetery. He could keep this up all night, but unless he dealt with Thorick, this was all he’d be doing. He’d spend more time getting that bloodhound off his trail than executing his plan. And if he’d had this much trouble with one Gargoyle, he played hell dealing with a whole pack of them. Something he did his best not to encourage.
Dante snarled, disgusted. If he didn’t stop the witches from bringing the rest of the Gargoyles, he might as well hand over the Goddesses the witches sought, with a big red bow.
Dante sneered. He’d never let that happen. He tipped his head and sniffed, continuing into the night. Into the darkness, he led the Gargoyle—while he contemplated how he’d lead him to his doom.
Perhaps—he’d make a deal with that warlock, Collin, after all….
