He stared at the cuff surrounding his wrist and cursed again for being caught unaware. With his other hand, his fingers slid over the cool metal. "I am even a bigger fool," he grumbled, not because of the binds that held him fast, but because the handcuffs weren't anything special. They were not fashioned out of iron, but some other mundane metal of no consequence, nothing that would hamper his strength and abilities. He may not be able to shift into the Gryphon because of the small quarters, but he could still shift into his elemental form. He let the elements slide over him and transform his body to ether.
Once free, he rematerialized into his human form and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He had a few hours before he had to return to the museum or else find himself vulnerable as he turned to stone.
He threw open the door to the motel room, and immediately his gaze riveted to the car space where Calli had parked her vehicle. Of course, he found it vacant. He'd expected no less, but still he cursed softly as he strode over to the spot. He inhaled deeply, finding her sweet scent beneath the car's more odorous aromas. He would be able to track her and he shifted into the beastie, shielding his true self with magic.
Most humans could not perceive the Otherworldly realm, and still others dismissed it as a trick of the eye. There were only those few who could see through the trickery of magic and witness all things around them. Some went mad from it, others were leery and tended to stay clear of preternatural affairs, and still others were curious and worked beside such creatures which possessed more than a human side. Calli sensed the Otherworldly plane, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it as of yet.
The humans of the tribes that lived centuries ago lived among preternatural beings. It proved not a strange matter. As the ages forged on, humans began to fear preternatural beings with their abilities and their strengths. Perhaps they were justified. Not all preternatural beings cared for humans. Even in his clan, there had been those who despised the human tribes. They believed the humans used them for their purposes, but didn't treat them with respect. Wars broke out, and despite the preternatural beings' strengths, the humans outnumbered them. The numbers of preternatural beings dwindled, some became extinct. Others faded away into history until they became nothing more than legends and folklore, a preference the Otherworldly realm preferred.
Right now, he wanted to remain invisible and not give proof to his existence. He'd seen videos on the curator's computer. The hunt for the Loch Ness Monster and Big Foot were the biggest hits. Shifting to his beastie side was a personal moment he wished not to share with the world. The mortals lacking imagination would not understand and what they did not perceive as normal, they tended to hunt down and destroy. No, thank you, Zeus on high; he preferred the shadows.
He used his back paws to push off the ground, catapulting himself high enough for his wings to catch the wind and to send him soaring even higher toward the heavens. His eyesight proved as keen as an eagle's, his wings as strong and sure as they supported his massive body high above the ground so he could search for Calli's vehicle. She drove a black sedan and no doubt what she perceived as inconspicuous.
While she'd been unconscious, he had rifled through the vehicle in hopes of finding the stone she secreted away. No sign of the stone, but he found her rental agreement for the vehicle, stating her name. It hadn't been the one she'd given him inside the motel room. So either she'd stolen the rental – he wouldn't put it past her – or she had many aliases, with credentials to back them up.
However, he remained sure she'd given him her true name inside the room. Perhaps she'd been a little disoriented and hadn't thought to give him something false or she'd believed she could outsmart him and it wouldn't matter once the stone was in the hands of her client.
Wrong on both accounts. If he couldn't locate Calli in the next few hours, he'd search for her via the Internet. He'd pick up her trail again, even if it took a few nights to do so.
Damn the gods for limiting his abilities to the night. The artifacts were also in danger during the daylight hours. Having a human caretaker secure the building, while he waited out the endless hours in his deathlike state, didn't seem the wisest of choices, but there wasn't exactly a complaint box or a person he could chat with about the situation. The curse was all about remaining isolated. He was not worthy to be with anything other than objects that could not bleed…could not die…
For the last decade, a Mr. Andros guarded the cursed items, or so his stationary on the desk dictated. He wondered if the man was a distant relation to those who lived on his blessed Isle of Andros, but alas, there were no chummy meetings over tea. Once the sun had set, the man donned his hat, locked the building, and headed home – or so he would assume. He really knew nothing of the curator's life, only what he left scattered on the desk… like his doodles and notes. He liked some sci-fi show and drew spaceships and such. They were interesting to say the least. His computer and the sites he visited were other such evidence. He tended to leave up sites like gardening, and articles about how to prepare chicken. Definitely, yawn worthy. The man had no taste, but his most annoying habit though was his love for tea. Various teacups were left around the museum, some still filled to the brim. It was like the man would forget he'd brewed a blasted cup and would prepare another.
Caring for the artifacts had always been done this way since ancient times. A curator ran the museum during the daylight hours, and then he would take over at night. Every few decades, the museum would be moved to a new location and a warding spell redone to keep the preternatural world at bay, less they were tempted to explore the cursed objects and use them for their own agenda. Humans couldn't be warded away, but the beast would take care of those who became too curious.
He assumed once the museum was moved to a different location, a new curator took over the daytime hours. Humans only lived so long.
The wind whipped around him, feathering along his body like a caress. He enjoyed his moment of freedom to fly above the world, even if it was to hunt for a wayward thief. He couldn't leave the building unless prompted to find a missing item, which proved far and in between. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd spread his wings in this fashion.
As much as he wanted to continue to fly, his senses kept gearing him toward the museum, which didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense when his thief was on the run. Perhaps the sun's attempt to peek over the horizon prompted his anxiety.
After a few more beats of his wings, he veered toward the museum, the apprehension growing stronger as he approached.
He landed with the grace of his kind before shifting into his human form. Then he sprinted to the front door only to skid to a halt as he rounded the corner. "You!" he accused with confusion and surprise. His heart tripped then sped up as he swore softly. Calli stood in front of the museum, the pale light from the approaching dawn revealing her natural attributes: ginger-colored hair with strands of gold and dark auburn, rose-colored lips he had tasted and longed for more, and a figure that sculptors would praise by carving statues in her honor.
She hadn't run after all.
Chapter Seven
"Hi, Big Boy. Did you miss me?" Calli asked and her lips curved into a huge grin, loving that she'd surprised Darrien by showing up at the Museum. Heck, she'd been trying to go over her reasons for this bold move too.
After she abandoned him at the motel, she'd only gone so far before she realized she couldn't leave him. She needed answers about the artifact, and who better to ask than the person guarding it?
By the time she circled around, he'd already broken free of his confines…or rather somehow managed to slip out of the cuffs. She assumed he would take his Gryphon form to search for her, but he probably wouldn't look for her at the museum. She headed there and hid her vehicle on the side of the building under the awning that appeared to be a private carport. She wanted the advantage of surprise.
Guess she got it if the, what-the-heck? look splattered across his face was any indicatio
n. "Thought we'd should have that little chat you spoke about," she said.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the horizon where the sky had turned shades lighter since her arrival. Sunrise couldn't be far off and Darrien appeared apprehensive at the prospect, or maybe even fearful. That was silly, wasn't it?
She followed his gaze, but she could see nothing out of the ordinary. The sky appeared clear with not a hint of an approaching storm. She tilted her head and peered at him standing there so strong and sure, and for a moment she imagined him in the Greek garb she'd seen him wear earlier this evening. He looked mighty fine in jeans and a T-shirt, but somehow the other clothing seemed more… him.
He must have sensed her staring at him and he turned to meet her gaze. His eyes turned bronze then gold. She'd never seen such unusual eyes, but then she'd never met a shifter before tonight. Truly she should be frightened or at the very least uneasy around him, but her intuition told her he wouldn't harm her.
In his human form, he'd shocked her with his touch as if he held a live wire, but despite all that, despite the fact he claimed the Gryphon hunted down thieves, she didn't fear him.
For the moment, they weren't at battle for dominance and her gaze slid over him once more. This time she took her time, admiring his human form with curiosity. The man did have a nice physique, a cross between the ancient gods she'd seen depicted in paintings and a poster-boy for marine special-ops. Give him a nice military haircut and oor-ah baby!
"You stare at me as if I am something you covet," he said. "And though I appreciate your admiration, it's not a wise expression if you do not want to follow through with it."
Her gaze riveted to his and her eyebrows lifted as she realized his meaning. "Duly warned, Big Boy. So…do you want to let us in?" She nodded toward the door.
He did a little eyebrow raising himself. "Surely, I'm surprised you are not already making yourself at home. You had no difficulties earlier this evening as to letting yourself inside. And…" he pointed to the window void of glass. "It looks like locking up would prove ridiculous at this point, don't you agree?"
"Tsk tsk… Don't be rude."
"Rude? I am the one being—" He shook his head, clearly exasperated, and murmured something in a language she didn't recognize, but she had a hunch by the tone it was not a litany of her finer qualities.
His hand reached for the doorknob and it glowed a rich gold color as if it were recognizing a DNA imprint. A second later, Darrien pushed the door open and he stepped aside to let her enter ahead of him.
"Who said a Gryphon couldn't be polite?" she teased and threw him her sweetest smile as she strode inside. He didn't look overly pleased – probably because she couldn't quite say Gryphon with a straight face. But then, he was inviting a thief into his house of treasures… Well, sort of treasures, if you were into cursed items.
Once the door was closed the room seeped into shadows, but she could make out the outline of Darrien and his eyes glowed in the dark with a gleam, reminding her he harbored the beast inside of him. "Do you have lights in this place?" she asked, expecting him to ignore her request, but without him moving – as far as she could tell – the lights overhead illuminated the room in a soft glow. "Nice trick." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, making her wonder what other nifty tricks he could do. Shifting into a beast and back to human, flying, and slipping out of handcuffs came to mind.
"Why are you here, Calli?" he asked, forcing her to focus on the reason she'd returned to the scene of the crime.
She did love the way his words slid off his tongue. He was Greek, she supposed. He was a Gryphon and she was sure the mythical creature's legends originated there. She almost chuckled. Mythical? Hmm...the myth was pretty much put to rest tonight. "I came back to the motel to free you," she said lamely.
"You did?" he asked with a frown as if he hadn't thought of the possibility.
"How else would I know you'd come back here? You somehow wiggled free." She paused and hoped he would fill her in on how he managed the magic trick, but he remained silent. "Well, okay then," she continued with her explanation. "I assumed you'd return to the museum eventually." Her lips curved into a grin. "I decided to go with my instincts. They've never steered me wrong yet."
"Is that so?" he muttered, not appearing in the least bit convinced.
Yeah, she hoped her freaky sixth sense hadn't gone whacky from her electrical jolt from earlier or otherwise this little detour may very well prove her last.
If she remembered her Gryphon tales, they were like Dragons. In the sense they probably snacked on thieves. She blinked back her thoughts of mayhem and possible death and focused. "I never trusted Professor Leander," she announced, and that caught Darrien's attention. At least he lost some of his hostile stance as he tilted his head in a birdlike fashion. She hurried on to explain. "That's the woman who hired me. Not to say I trust you either, but maybe I should have all the facts before I decide what to do with the stone."
For a long moment, Darrien stared at her as if she were an object he had yet to identify with his eagle-eye expertise, but then he spoke, "You are a strange thief, Calli Angelis."
"Are you trying to give me a compliment?"
"No," he said dryly and pursed his lips.
"Oh…well…" she cleared her throat. "Professor Leander wanted the stone and paid me well to retrieve it. She had documents and proof that the item belonged to her, or rather the Leander Corporation who funded the archeologist team and who unearthed the site where the stone was found. I believed I was only retrieving the artifact and returning it to its rightful owner."
"She has lied to you," Darrien snarled and his nostrils flared as if the thought of someone lying about owning the stone was a worse crime than her waltzing in here and stealing it.
"I kind of figured you'd say that," she said. "However, how do I know you aren't the liar in this scenario?"
"Gryphons never lie," he said with a huff of annoyance.
She tapped her forefinger on her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Now see, how would I know such a thing since I believed a Gryphon to be a creature of mythology and not a beast that had made it onto the Ark."
Again his dark brow rose. "You do have a sense of humor, do you not, Miss Angelis?"
His sensual kissable lips slid into a smile that made her knees weak. "How do you know it is Miss and not Misses?" she asked, just for the heck of it. Was it wishful thinking on his part?
"Because," his throaty rough-warn voice said, "you're my soul mate and I know you haven't been with another male in some time."
"Uh…what? Forget it." She held up her hands and took a step back. "Put on the breaks, buzz kill. Now you just ruined the moment, and I don't want to know how you figured that out."
"Buzz kill?"
His frown only made him look more adorable, but his soul mate kick put a damper on flirting with him. She sighed with regret. The idea of sneaking another kiss just to see where it would lead had been tempting too. It's a good thing his words slapped her back to reality.
"Listen, I believe you're looking for this." She slipped her hand into her pocket and retrieved the pouch. "The stone's in here." He moved so fast she would have sworn he had blinked into nothing then reappeared in front of her and all before she had time to blink herself. "What the—"
"Hand it over," he demanded and she took another step back just for breathing space.
"I'm rather surprised you asked," she said. Her gaze landed on his eyes, the true tell of his emotions, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Can you stop with the weird-as-hell eye thing-y?"
His head tilted to the side, a movement reminding her of a bird of prey. "I do not know what you mean."
"Right. If you could only see what I'm seeing," she murmured more to herself than to him. "Anyway, before I give up the stone here, I want to know your story and why I should give a flying crap what you say about it."
"You do know I could just take it from you," he said and the meaning behind his words did n
ot go unnoticed, but he felt the need to clarify. "It wouldn't be pretty. The beastie inside of me demands justice and you stole what it guarded."
"But you won't hurt me, will you?" She smiled and took a chance her assumption was correct. "Because you believe I'm your soul mate," she added.
Chapter Eight
Calli stood perhaps five feet four-inches tall, petite, but what she lacked in height she certainly made up with her Amazon warrior tactics and bravery. She did not fear him in the least, and Darrien had no doubt the woman knew what the beastie was capable of doing. She didn't run, but came back to the museum to face him and demanded answers on top of all of it. She claimed he would not hurt her, but still she gambled with her life. "Perhaps you are correct, but I would not be so smug with your assumption. I would do all I could to keep my Callista safe, but I am also cursed." He waved his hand around the room in a full sweep to emphasize the many artifacts in the museum, and that he was one of them. He watched her expression as her gaze took it all in.
There were chairs of various sizes and shapes; curio cabinets, some decorated with symbols, some with items on the shelves, some with none. Dolls with beautiful curls and pristine dresses stood at attention, while some were hideous with clothes that were blackened, as if someone had tried to burn them but hadn't succeeded. There were books stacked in one corner, and clocks of various sizes ranging from alarm clock size to Grandfather size in another… Of course, he knew she'd seen all of it when she broke in, but not when the overhead lights were turned on to highlight the objects with an eerie glow.
Gryphon and His Thief Page 4
