Gryphon and His Thief

by Nutt, Karen Michelle

  "And what will happen to Calli if I hand over the stone?"

  "So you do have it. On you?" Her gaze slid over him as if she wondered where he'd hidden it on his person.

  He didn't keep her guessing, but withdrew the item she coveted from his pocket and held it between his forefinger and thumb for her to see. She reached for it, but he whipped it out of her range above his head. "Nay. You have not answered my question. What will happen to Calli?"

  She lifted her elegant shoulders in a shrug. "She is dead already, if I do nothing," she told him. She glanced at the stone figure of Calli forever frozen in a position of her trying to flee. "At least with the ritual I intend to do, she'll be released from her prison and her soul will have the chance to be reborn once again."

  "You are not endearing me to see your side of things," he seethed with anger. Damn the infernal female. He would kill her. He would rip her to shreds and scatter her body in the four regions. "You do not need to drain her for the ritual to work," he said and was surprised his voice remained steady.

  "Perhaps not, but it would be much more fun to see her bleed out…again."

  He inwardly flinched at her words, the dig driving deeper into his heart, where the wound had never quite healed. Isa had watched Callista die, had waited until she drew her last breath.

  "You never did see things my way," she pouted then her eyes turned cold. "Let me speak plainly. You don't have a choice." She glanced at Bert.

  The man hadn't so much as shied away from what transpired here tonight. He must have been with Isa a long time or perhaps he shared in her diabolical tendencies and saw nothing amiss.

  "Bring the statue outside," she ordered Bert. "And be careful not to drop it," she added as she sauntered by Darrien, but paused in the doorway. "We don't want Calli to lose a limb…or her pretty little head. It would be such a shame if that happened." Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes shimmered with maniacal delight. She enjoyed inflicting pain. Be it physical or not. No matter what he did or promised, she would not let Calli live.

  He knew Isa as a child, when she was wild and carefree. She would often times tag along with him and his friends when they flew to the mountaintop to look over the lands where they could view the village and the sea beyond.

  She was a few years younger, but she never slowed them down. She could keep up with most of the males. Fast and sure, diving toward the water then soaring as if she could reach the heavens. Then her laughter of pure joy would make him smile.

  He'd known she was fond of him. He'd seen the sly glances when she thought he wouldn't notice, but he truly believed it to be a fanciful attraction of youth. He thought she'd grow up to realize they were never meant to be.

  From the moment he met Callista, he knew, she would be his, and she shared the same belief of him. The attraction between them could not be ignored. Her mere laughter would bring joy to his heart. She was sweet as she was clever. He sighed wearily.

  In truth, he had forgotten about Isa by the time she was old enough to find her mate and start a family. If only he had talked to her, convinced her she would find someone else who would love her with all his heart. If only…

  He could go on forever with a list of what he could have done, but it proved too late for any of it. Isa was no longer a young female, tagging along to see what mischief she would find herself in. She'd forgotten how to enjoy life. Hatred governed her, and she took happiness away from others as if consuming their glee would somehow fill the emptiness in her heart.

  Darrien followed Isa. She paused when she spotted her two men who had been stationed outside the motel room. "Are they dead?" she asked Darrien.

  "No," he told her. He had no need to kill them. He caught them unaware and knocked them out with little effort.

  Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Useless, those two. I wish you would have saved me the trouble." She continued on her way without a backward glance. Her steps were sure and proud, and her hips swayed back and forth with confidence. She had the walk of a warrior back from battle and carting the riches for the coffers.

  She did not realize he had not given up, not in the least, but with Calli frozen, he had no choice but to play along for the moment. Isa had pushed him into a corner, but this time he would not allow her to take the woman he loved from this world. By the gods, once he had vowed to protect Callista and failed. This was his chance to make good his promise by saving Calli tonight.

  Isa halted her steps in the center of the parking lot. Bert placed the statue of Calli down and stood guard as if he too had turned to stone with the way he folded his arms across his chest and waited for further instructions.

  Darrien regarded Isa curiously, wondering what she planned next.

  "Hand over Hecate's Stone, if you will," Isa demanded of him. She outstretched her hand, palm up as if he would just plop the item into her clutches and call it a day.

  She would be sadly disappointed. "Undo the magic you cast on Calli," he countered. "I will have my proper goodbye before you perform any ritual. You owe me that much." He took the steps separating him from Calli and stood in front of her, afraid to touch her and feel the cold stone and not the heat of her flesh. "Hecate's Stone for Calli's release," he said, just to make sure she understood the terms.

  Isa's eyes narrowed becoming dark slits of fury. "What makes you believe you have the upper hand and can make demands? I'm in control of the situation." She tapped her chest with her index finger. "I've turned your little twit to stone, and you're cursed, a slave to the hours of the day. I don't see how this gives you an advantage to demand anything."

  He gave her a slow appraising look. Not a hair out of place, and her outfit gave her a polished and sophisticated appearance of a woman who could command an empire, but the slight trembling of her lower lip gave her away. She could never command, when she could not control her own emotions. Isa only looked after herself and when she didn't have her way, she pouted and stomped her feet.

  A memory of her as a child came to mind. She'd wanted a trinket her brother had brought back from a raid, but he wanted to give it to a girl he sought to court. Isa had destroyed the trinket in a fit of rage then took to the sky, screeching until the tribe thought their ears would bleed. There were other temper tantrums through the years, but no one foresaw the treachery she'd be capable of exacting. She'd murdered his wife, caused the destruction of their tribe, and the gods only knew what other immoral acts she'd done through the centuries. She'd mentioned a wizard and his ring, and no doubt others had suffered at her hands. By all the stars in the heavens, she had skirted justice long enough, but first he must play her game for just a little while longer, before he changed the rules and finished this for good.

  "I have lived with my losses," he told her with a shrug as if he didn't care if the curse lasted another century or not. So be it, is what he thought. "Being cursed would be just another day. You threaten me with nothing, Isa. I will have my goodbye with Calli, and you will set her free. It's my condition if you want me to stand by your side," he told her.

  She seemed to consider his words as her keen eyes bore into him. She most likely wondered if he would deceive her, but in the end she chose what she wanted to believe. She wanted him, yes, but as a person who wants an object to display on a mantle, a prize she'd won.

  Words from the old world flew from her lips and the wind picked up, swirling around them like a dancer enjoying the tune Isa belted out as sweet and sure as an opera singer upon a stage. He took a step back, allowing the magic to take hold of Calli.

  Slowly, he witnessed her awaking from the curse. Her skin lightened to a healthy glow as the stone turned to flesh. As her moss colored eyes flashed with life, she drew in a ragged breath.

  Inside the motel, she'd been fleeing the scene and it was as if time had stood still for her. With the curse lifted, she continued her flight, the momentum abrupt as her feet sprinted forward; her last movement setting the pace.

  He'd anticipated this would happen and brace
d himself as she slammed into him. His arms came around her so she wouldn't fall. "You are safe," he told her and closed his eyes as he placed a kiss on top of her head. For centuries, he had wrestled with the guilt of what happened that day Isa had killed his wife. He'd been too late to save his sweet Callista, but he wouldn't fail Calli. Of this, he vowed.

  Calli's body relaxed into his embrace and she just breathed. What a wonderful sound it was to hear the intake of breath and the whoosh as it was being released once more. Her heartbeat reached his ears, a thump-thump, thump-thump, a little fast, but steady. She leaned back and lifted her chin to meet his eyes.

  "What…happened?" she asked, her voice raspy and she cleared her throat. Her brow furrowed with unease.

  All he wanted to do was smooth those lines of stress and tell her everything would be all right. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her, silencing her questions with the caress. She didn't push him away, but wrapped her arms around him. He inhaled the scent of her and the memory of holding his wife in this same fashion came back to him full force, but he also knew this was Calli, a thief who had awakened his desire to live. He didn't want to break the connection, but he must if he were to finish what Isa had started so long ago. He cradled Calli's head as he whispered in her ear, "Trust me."

  He let the magic roll over him and he shifted into the Gryphon with Calli cradled in his claws. Her startled intake of breath at the sudden change of embrace couldn't be helped. Thankfully, she didn't struggle to be free from him, but quickly settled and held on. Such a brave and trusting woman and his heart swelled with his love for her.

  His wings spread wide, and the wind fluttered over his feathers with encouragement. He pushed off, his back paws giving him the leverage he needed to take flight.

  Isa screeched the sounds of her betrayal before switching to the language of Gryphons to blast him further. It had been so long since he heard his language spoken by another, and wished it hadn't been used for curses and in anger. He glanced down below where Isa stood with Bert at her side. He noticed the other two men he'd knocked out earlier were jogging toward Isa. She appeared to be issuing orders, her hands flying as she spoke. Then she glanced skyward. Even from this distance, he could see fury in her eyes as bright as the blazing sun. A second later, the shimmer of energy surrounded her as she shifted into her Gryphon form to pursue him.

  That was his cue to go. His long wingspan gave him the advantage and his head start even more. He kept well ahead of Isa, but he knew she would figure out where he headed soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty

  Calli's mind still felt scrambled from her ordeal, but she managed to hang onto Darrien as he flew high above the world below. Her teeth chattered, but she didn't think it was because of the cold. Trauma, shock, the fact she was clutched in a Gryphon's claws…heck, all of the above could be the cause.

  She closed her eyes and let the wind blow through her hair. A scent surrounded her, a blend of sand, spice, and male heat. A strange combination, but she knew it to be Darrien, no matter that he'd morphed into a Gryphon. The steady flap of his wings lulled her too. She was safe. He would keep her safe. The whisper of unease that teased her senses flitted away on the wind and she relaxed, knowing he wouldn't let anything happen to her if he could help it.

  Darrien had told her how much Callista had loved to fly with him. Now, she understood why. Despite the life and death situation they were in, the thrill of soaring through the air was exhilarating.

  Her gaze took in the scene below and wondered where Darrien was heading. They'd left the motel far behind and the desert below proved a featureless black ocean with only a few pinpricks of stars and a wan sickle moon to light the path, but then she spotted a building in the distance. Maybe they were heading for the museum. As if Darrien sensed her thoughts, he veered to the left toward the building, the course proving she'd been right.

  Fast and sure, Darrien's wings took them closer until he was above the museum. He circled around the parking lot, then lower and lower until he hovered near the ground. She anticipated he was going to release her and scooted forward. The drop hadn't been far, but her limbs weren't fully recovered from her ordeal. She stumbled, and fell to her knees, but Darrien was there beside her in seconds. He had shifted to his human side and reached for her, helping her to her feet.

  "Are you well?" he asked with concern.

  "Just peachy keen." Her father used to use those words when he was far from all right. It was his standard line after he had chemo. He claimed if he said he was peachy keen enough times eventually his body would catch up to what his brain wanted to be true.

  "Does that mean you are ill? Your pallor has turned a ghastly shade not conclusive with health.

  She might have laughed, but she just didn't have it in her. Instead she gave him a huge smile. "I'm working on fine. Can you give me a moment?" Her mouth felt like she swallowed sand and she licked her lips, hoping to find moisture.

  "You need water," he told her.

  Before she could respond, he flitted away then returned before she could lick her lips again. He held out a water bottle with one hand, the lid already removed, while his other hand rested at her elbow to keep her steady. She fisted her hands then opened them again with hopes the tingly feeling at her fingertips would cease to plague her. Her circulation had been hampered big time. She reached for the bottle and managed not to drop it as she took a generous drink. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat and worked like an elixir. She felt a surge of energy race through her veins after each sip she took.

  As she indulged, she couldn't help but think about what had happened. Isa had been stronger than she imagined, more powerful and dangerous. The woman was a Gryphon, but she also had a few lethal tricks and she couldn't say she looked forward to an encore. She remembered there had been a wizard and an angel in her office. Made her wonder if they had fallen victim to Isa's wrath and she turned them to stone. It would account for why she thought the statues had seemed creepy in some way, not quite right. Maybe she had sensed their souls trapped inside the marble.

  "I am sorry." Darrien said.

  "You're sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about. That witch with a capital B is the one who will be sorry. She turned me to stone!" She ran a hand over her face and inhaled deeply. Glad she could manage such a simple act as breathing.

  "She will pay for what she has done—past and present offences. You mark my words." His eyes shifted to the eagle-like blink before returning to his more human look. His eyes were unusual no matter what, but when they glowed and the irises turned a different shape, it brought home the fact he was not entirely human.

  He still held onto her elbow. Probably because he feared she would tumble to the ground, but already she could feel her toes again, and her energy returning to full strength. Water truly did replenish. She vowed from this day forward, she'd keep extra water bottles on hand.

  Darrien shifted his position so he stood in front of her. His fingers smoothed her hair from her face. His gaze held such longing it made her legs feel like wet noodles all over again, and she gripped his forearms to keep from falling. In truth, she was already falling—in love, that is—with this wonderfully honorable shifter.

  "You truly are beautiful, all windblown and determined," he told her. "You are so very brave, Calli Angelis. I bless the stars that you walked into my museum to commit thievery."

  Her lips twitched into a smile. "You do know how to dazzle a girl with sweet talk."

  He looked confused, but then he chuckled. "I have not wooed a woman in a long time."

  She sighed. "Funny thing is, I kind of like how you're wooing."

  "Brave, beautiful, and most forgiving…" He cupped her face and leaned down to press his lips to hers.

  They were moments away from Isa's wrath, yet she couldn't help but take what Darrien offered. Who knew if they would ever get another chance? If Isa had her way, she and Darrien would be bookends at her office, or maybe she'd put them next to the wizard an
d the angel statue.

  As his kiss demanded more of her attention, the near emptied water bottle slipped from her fingers so she could hold onto Darrien. He tasted dark and dangerous— everything she needed right now. She closed her eyes and savored the exquisite caress. He half growled half chuckled as he pulled her closer. His calloused hands were rough on her cheek, but she didn't mind. The intensity and the immediacy of attraction she felt for him mystified her, and yet with stolen moments like this, she felt she'd finally come home.

  He ended the kiss sooner than she would have liked, and when he pulled away, she teetered forward as if he were her lifeline to the oxygen she needed. Her skin felt warm and tingly. It could be the effects of being turned to stone or it could be Darrien's kisses playing havoc with her libido. She had a hunch it was the latter.

  "Isa will be upon us in a moment," he warned her. "She will pick up my scent soon enough. Please go inside the museum. You shall be safe there."

  She'd been turned to stone and her limbs hadn't fully recovered, leaving her feeling as if she wore lead-lined boots and weights on her wrists, but she wasn't going to hide in the museum and leave him out here to face Isa.

  "Are you all right?" Tender concern laced his words and she realized she hadn't said anything about his request. He shifted his gaze skyward as if he expected Isa to dive down and attack. She still might.

  "You'll be safe inside the museum too." Her hand snaked out and tugged on his sleeve. His gaze riveted to her. "She can't enter the building," she said. "It's warded against preternatural creatures—at least ones that aren't cursed," she corrected her claim. "You can easily hold off her men from inside if they decide to join her."

  "I will not hide." He straightened his back and stood taller. "I must end this once and for all. Isa will not stop until she has her way. She does not care who she must harm to achieve the goal. We have but one chance." He pulled out Hecate's Stone from the pouch attached at his belt. He was about to hand it to her so she could put in a safe place in the museum, but the stone started to glow and throb with energy. No longer did it appear black, but all shades of the rainbow pulsed inside of it, the color changing with each pulse. The air around them became thicker and a wind picked up ruffling their hair as if the stone commanded it.