The Gryphon and His Thief
Karen Michelle Nutt
Smashwords Edition
The Gryphon and His Thief
Presented by Publishing by Rebecca J. Vickery
Copyright © 2014 by Karen Michelle Nutt
Cover Design Copyright © Katrina Gillian
Edited by Katrina Gillian
Licensing Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this ebook without purchasing it and it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
The Gryphon and His Thief is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns actually exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.
Dedication
To my readers! Without you, my tales would be forgotten.
You rock!
Special Thanks
To Cathy, for always reading my rough drafts. A million thanks and more for all your thoughts and suggestions. You are the best!
And to Katrina, for her artistic eye and always creating beautiful book covers.
To view more of Karen Michelle Nutt work or stories, visit: www.kmnbooks.com
Some Treasures are Priceless…
A long time ago, a Gryphon shifter’s duty was to guard and protect the people of the tribes, but Darrien Andros failed to keep his human wife safe from harm. Cursed for the crime, he must guard everything in the Museum of Cursed Antiquities forever, never to truly live and never to die. Centuries have passed, but when he encounters a thief, who uncannily resembles his dead wife, he is convinced he has a second chance.
Calli Angelis is hired to steal Hecate's Stone from the Museum, believing she would be returning it to its rightful owner. She never really trusted the person who hired her and now Darrien makes her doubt her motives, too. He also has her questioning the possibility of reincarnation when the attraction between them ignites into something she can no longer ignore.
As the two work together to unravel the mysteries behind the stone, it becomes apparent an old and dangerous enemy from Darrien’s past is determined to have history repeat itself.
Chapter One
Calli Angelis glanced around the empty parking lot with only the light from the moon to illuminate the empty car spaces. Bushes and fairy duster shrubs with their pink and red flowers decorated the vast Arizona desert behind it, along with rocks and gravel. The weather proved mild for October, and sage scented the air.
She dressed for the occasion with dark clothing, hiking boots, and a ski mask, making sure her ginger hair stayed hidden and didn't flap in the wind like a fiery warning flag.
Confirming she was indeed the only one lurking around the Museum of Cursed Antiquities, she fished out her tools of the trade attached to her tool belt and went to work on the lock. The museum was more like a glorified warehouse, rustic and foreboding.
With her forefinger and thumb, she worked the tool and listened for the click. To think she almost hadn't taken this job. Professor Leander had struck her as a little on the weird side, but in the end, who was she to judge as long as her offshore bank account had multiple zeroes behind a grand number.
Since her father's passing less than six months ago, she'd been on her own. Cancer was a real bitch. Her father had been tough as nails, but the disease had won anyway. So when Professor Leander offered her a way out of a pile of bills and creditors who kept calling the house, she ignored the niggling in the back of her mind and signed on to do the job.
It had taken her over a month to trace where the artifact had been taken once it had been unearthed at a location just north of the Delphi Archeological site in Greece. Professor Leander, or rather the Leander Corporation, funded the dig. It had been well guarded, but someone still had managed to infiltrate the compound and steal the item from right under everyone's noses. The professor suspected it had been an inside job, but she hadn't been able to prove it.
The resounding click of the lock made her smile and she reached for the door handle with confidence.
Earlier today she'd cased the place. Not one person visited, but a nerdy looking guy, who kept his nose in a book and sipped tea all day long, seemed to be the curator. Casing the place for hours on end proved tiresome, and she must have dozed for a second. She hadn't seen the guy leave the building, but for the last half hour, the lights remained off and the place appeared as quiet as a tomb. If she had more time, she'd wait another day and stake it out again, making sure she had caffeine in her system to keep alert, but she didn't have the luxury. She had until October 31st, to place the item in Professor Leander's hands or she'd forfeit the second installment promised to her for her troubles.
She was cutting it short, but she still had plenty of time. She'd nab the item tonight, deliver it to the professor tomorrow then head on over to New Orleans for some rest and relaxation… Well, more like party hardy at a costume ball her cousin Mick was throwing for Halloween. The man knew how to rock and roll.
Luckily, the museum didn't possess an alarm system so she didn't have to worry about disarming it. "In and out," she murmured. "Easy-peasy." Her hand slipped the flashlight from her tool belt and she clicked the button. Light illuminated the place, highlighting the items in a grotesque glow, making the place appear more like a house of horrors than a museum. "Museum of Cursed Antiquities," she reminded herself. With this view, she could well imagine the title to be true. Everything seemed to be catalogued in sections in a semblance of order. Dolls to the left of her, some small, some as tall as a toddler, all with various hair styles from bald to curly, and hair color ranging from dark to light.
"What the heck…" Had the one with the sailor hat winked at her? She cringed at the thought and hurried on down the path. Furniture came next, chairs, sofas, lamps…then torture devices. She passed by a guillotine that stood in the corner on the right. The sign stated: Haunted by the headless Lady Marie Devull. Well, really now. The woman was probably looking for her head. No wonder she haunted the darn thing.
Her fingers subconsciously caressed the chrysoprase amulet she wore on a silver chain around her neck. Her father claimed the apple green and slightly fluorescent stone was a thief's stone used in ancient times to protect the person from being hanged or…beheaded. In this century, hopefully it warded off being arrested too.
She strode past a curio filled with items that were haunted or cursed by their previous owners—gloves, photographs, brooches—to name a few. At the end of the aisle, Sarcophagi stood in a row, like soldiers guarding over the damned. All were decorated with painted representations of the deceased—or so she imagined. Sightless black eyes and ghastly grins... "I take it your curse is being ugly buggers." She stifled a laugh and pursed her lips. She shouldn't make fun of the dead, and most assuredly not in here.
To the right was another room, the sign above stated Rocks, Minerals, Jewels, and Stones. "Exactly what I was looking for," she murmured. As long as the curator documented and logged the new arrival, the stone should be in there.
She took a step into the room only to come up short as the light from the flashlight landed on glowing eyes. "Holy—" the curse stuck in her throat as she stumbled back. Her heart had surely decided to lodge itself in her throat, but she forced herself to take a deep gulping breath and let it out again.
"Get a grip," she murmured and shone the light in the direction o
f the glowing eyes to reveal the threat as an enormous statue of a mythical beast with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion and the head, talons and wings of an eagle. It was both fierce and majestic with eyes made of precious stones – or so she assumed with the way the light reflected off of them. She shone the flashlight at the base, looking for a card stating why it was in the museum, but couldn't locate one. "So Mr. Gryphon, I'm curious, why are you here?" She didn't know much about the creatures, but a portrait of a Gryphon hung in her father's study… her study now. She never had the heart to change the décor and truthfully, she'd always liked the painting.
Her hand smoothed over the flank of the statue, not fearing she'd leave fingerprints since she wore gloves. "You are a beauty." She sighed with regret. "Sorry, Big Boy, I'm on a job. Can't stop to chat." She patted the creature and moved toward the glass case located a few feet behind it. A long forgotten teacup sat on top, half filled, a slice of lemon resting on the saucer. She removed the cup, placing it on the ground at her feet. Her gaze then shifted over each item in the case, skimming the information listed on the cards. She had in mind to leave the curator a thank you note for being so meticulous in cataloging the artifacts.
She finally spotted the item she'd come to retrieve. There was a card there, but the info hadn't been typed on it yet. There was only the name of the item and a number, probably a catalog number since all the other exhibits possessed one too.
Her hand smoothed along the lip of the case, feeling for the release mechanism. "There you are," she murmured and pressed the lever. The top opened with ease. She shook her head wondering why the owner was so trusting. No alarm system, no locks on the curios… Heck, she was surprised the front door hadn't been left wide open.
"Yeah, enter at your own risk." Guess there wasn't a high demand on cursed objects. She slid the case open and reached for the egg shaped stone. Once she had the stone in her grasp, she carefully closed the glass top.
She stared at the item with curiosity. It wasn't anything special to look at and if she'd seen it on the ground it wouldn't be a stone she'd snatch up as a treasure. Black as ebony and smooth to the touch, it sat in the palm of her hand, but even through her glove, she could feel the stone radiating heat. Her eyebrows furrowed, as she wondered what curse it harbored, and if she somehow triggered it to respond when she picked it up.
She turned it over in her hand to inspect it further. She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of her line of questioning. "Curses…yeah, right," but she didn't completely dismiss the idea an object could be cursed. She had her share of superstitions passed down through the generations and it was hard to shake them off as being silly folklore. Besides, if the stone was truly cursed, it couldn't just rub off on a person by touching it. Professor Leander had obviously handled the item at the dig site with no worries.
She slipped the stone in the pouch secured at her waist. She closed the lid to the case and returned the teacup where she'd found it. She then turned to leave, but came up short as she shone her flashlight in the direction she'd taken when she entered the room. "Where in the heck is the Gryphon?" she said aloud. She really had to stop talking to herself.
The statue stood over six feet tall and had to weigh a ton. It would be difficult to miss, let alone forget where it stood in the room.
She shook her head. She must have miscalculated where it stood in the dark. She shifted the flashlight, letting the light shine around the room in a slow arc, expecting to find the creature standing as regal and unmoving as she'd left it, but it wasn't there. "Oh come now. It couldn't have taken flight." There was no room for it to fly if it could—and it couldn't, she reminded herself. It was a sculpture not a living breathing creature, and yet the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention.
She patted the pouch at her side. She had what she came for and she wasn't going to debate why her psyche conjured a Gryphon statue when there obviously wasn't one. She hurried out of the room at a jog and toward the front of the museum, only to slide to a halt as she caught sight of something immersed in shadows and blocking the front entrance.
"It couldn't be," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She shone her light on the object ahead of her. The Gryphon stood there, tall and fierce.
Her tongue slipped out and she licked her suddenly dry lips. How in the world had the statue moved from the back room to here? The neat magic trick proved at the very least amazing, but then her gaze met its eyes and the damned thing blinked.
"Holy… What the—" She couldn't finish either curse as she stumbled back and rammed her hip into the corner of one of the glass tables filled with cursed items. "Crap." All she needed was to break something. "Get a grip," she warned herself. The Gryphon didn't blink his eyes. Yep, and it didn't fly from the back room and station itself at the door either. She gulped and leveled the beam of the flashlight on the statue once more. Only what stood there now was a man, a large man with dark hair and eyes… that glowed like the Gryphon's eyes had.
"You cannot take the item from the museum," the man's voice boomed low and with authority meant to intimidate, his words flavored with a Greek accent. "You must return it immediately," he finished the threat. Sure there had been no threat voiced, but she all but heard the 'or else'.
"Who are you?" she asked even though she had no right to inquire. Obviously, this man must be the night guardsman. Her gaze slid over his attire and frowned. He wore garments she'd only seen painted on Greek vases and paintings—intricate designed tunic, dark colored cloak, and gold sandals adorned his feet. Her one eyebrow lifted. Perhaps he was a thief who liked theatrics... She had an uncle who liked to dress like a caped superhero when he went on his jobs.
She straightened her back and met the guy's gaze head on. "I think you need to leave or I'll call the cops." She pulled out her cell phone and lit up the screen to prove her point. The guy didn't have to know she bluffed. She didn't want the cops here anymore than he probably did.
He didn't quite react the way she thought he would. Oh no, he had the audacity to laugh, a deep guttural laugh. "You amuse me human woman," he told her.
"Human woman?" Okay, this nut-job was off his meds. "Fine, you stay here and this human woman will say good evening. It's been a long day. I need to head back to my spaceship before E.T. calls home and tells Mom and Dad I'm late."
The man's brows furrowed, deep creases marring his forehead. Maybe she loaded on the crapola a little thick. It was best to end this conversation and get out of Africa—as her father would say—and make like a cheetah on the hunt. She took a few cautious steps toward the front door.
"You will halt," he demanded with his palm up as if his stance would stop her.
Well, yep it did, for a full three seconds. She knew some self-defense moves, but this guy was built like he lifted weights in his sleep just so his bulk didn't decrease in the middle of the night. It didn't appear like the front door was an option, but… her gaze latched onto the window next to it. "Oh, hell." She charged and prayed this old building hadn't been refurbished with safety glass. Otherwise, this stunt was really going to hurt.
Chapter Two
Darrien stared in disbelief at the thief wearing a knit hat that covered her hair and most of her face. However, despite the attempt at a disguise, there was no mistaking the thief's gender as female even before she spoke. Lovely green eyes with thick lashes peered at him over a petite nose, and her luscious lips demanded him to comply. If the features and the voice hadn't given her gender away, the curves her dark fitting outfit displayed, certainly would have.
He knew for a fact his stance intimidated, but she faced him with courage and the determination of a warrior. Either she was mad, or braver than she ought to be. In the next second, he had his answer. She was absolutely nutty.
His eyes widened in horror as she raced toward the window beside the door with its rectangular shape and framed in wood. It wasn't nearly wide enough to pull such a stunt as she intended. He cursed in the language of his youth, a dialec
t similar to the Greeks' language of ancient time, but more guttural. She would surely kill herself or, at the very least, cause some considerable damage to her person. She was human, but he sensed there was more to her, not a demigod, but something more powerful than a mere mortal. It proved a shame to waste such a life, but he would have to end it. He could not allow her to take one of the cursed items out of the museum. As guardian, thievery on his watch meant a sure death to the culprit. Maybe he should let her crash into the glass. She'd most likely break her neck or sever an artery, but then she may surprise him further and survive. No, he must stop her now.
His magic curled around him and he took the form of ether, reappearing in front of the woman, but she was quick on her feet and she maneuvered around him. With one last effort, his hand snaked out to clasp her wrist. She swung with her other hand and something sliced into his flesh. The sharp pain made him falter his grip and she yanked her arm, leaving him holding only her glove as her body propelled through the window. She'd raised her arms to shield her face as the glass shattered, and her scream pierced his eardrum, the sound as deafening as screeching gargoyles when they mated. He covered his ears on reflex.
When silence blessed the heavens, he lowered his hands and stared at the window now sporting jagged glass, and strode toward it, expecting to find her sprawled on the ground in a heap of blood and shards, but the little thief hadn't even paused upon landing. His gaze caught sight of her sprinting around the side of the building, as he stood befuddled over how she managed to pull off the elaborate feat.
Finally, he snapped into action and stepped over the ledge, the glass crunching beneath his sandals. Changing forms, he took flight as the creature men feared, both eagle and lion, fierce and unrelenting when pursuing a thief, but this woman proved not to be a coward. She was brave and worthy of the chase. His wings flapped, one, two, three times, the wind guiding him until he flew above her. She glanced up at him and anticipated his intent with keen eyes of her own. As he dove at her, his talons stretched and readied to tear, she whirled around at the same time and released the weapon she wielded in her hand. Her dagger flew straight and true like an arrow meant to slay a beast on a hunt. His eyes widened in admiration at her skill, and he neatly avoided being slain. At the last millisecond, he switched shapes again, disappearing into the wind in his ether form. The dagger harmlessly went through him. Before he could materialize once more, she had jumped in her vehicle and drove away as if the wind itself could give the metal beast flight.
Gryphon and His Thief Page 1
