“Ian,” Kate said as she backed into the storage area. She glanced toward the windows, hoping Ian wasn’t standing there. That would put him in Hatcher’s direct line of sight. “His name is Ian. He’s a good man. Don’t hurt him. Please.”
Kate edged toward the windows. They were twenty feet away, but they might as well have been a hundred.
Hatcher followed her every step. “You’re defending him.”
“Hatcher, please. I just need a little air. I’m just going over to these windows. It’s all right. We’re friends, you and I.” Fifteen feet. She hoped that Ian would hear her now, realize what she was doing. As long as Hatcher had the gun, Ian needed to stay put.
Praesus was at the window, quietly staring out. Hatcher either didn’t see him or didn’t care.
Hatcher stopped and stared at her. “Friends? I’m here to save you. I’m more than your friend, Kate.”
“Just let me get to the window for some air. Then we’ll talk.”
“STOP WALKING AWAY FROM ME!” Veins stood out on his forehead. Then his expression softened once more. “Please, Kate. I’m sorry I yelled. But, baby, everything I’ve done I did for you. I’d do anything for you. You have to see that.”
The gargoyles were in sight now. Ian was either gone or still in the room down the hall. Had something happened to him? She looked at Hatcher. The gargoyles would see the gun pointed at her. They’d act on that. Outside, a gargoyle stared at her.
Do it!
“The window doesn’t open, Kate.”
The gargoyle continued up the building. It ignored her! Why weren’t they doing anything?
“Come to me. Let me hold you. I’ll take care of you,” Hatcher said.
She turned to face him. He’d lowered the gun. The gargoyles hadn’t seen her in danger. Hatcher walked up to her. She casually reached behind her back, feeling for the scissors.
“Kate.” He traced a finger up her arm. Kate held herself still.
Just a little more, she thought to herself. Come on, look me in the eyes. Get your attention up here, buddy.
“There. See? I would never hurt you, Kate.” Hatcher seemed more relaxed now.
Kate felt her pulse pick up. Could she do this? Hatcher’s eyes met hers.
It was now or never.
Kate forced a smile, which put him at ease. She let him embrace her.
“Oh, Kate. I’ve waited so long. I knew you’d see. I knew you’d understand. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Kate rammed the scissors into the small of Hatcher’s back with all her might.
Hatcher gasped and staggered backward, his eyes wide. “Kate?”
Kate punched him in the gut. He doubled over. Blood soaked his shirt where the scissors protruded.
Another gargoyle was at the window. Kate didn’t need to turn and see it. She could hear it.
Why didn’t he raise the goddamn gun?
“Why, Kate?”
“Run, Ian!” Kate screamed. The gargoyles must have seen this. Of course, they’d also see her as the attacker. She knew what that meant. She preferred a quick death by gunshot. Come on, Hatcher, she thought, raise the goddamned gun!
“Get out! Run, Ian!”
Something growled behind Hatcher. He heard it, too. Oddly, he didn’t turn to look. “Not there!” he said as if speaking to someone else. “Not there!”
Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. The color drained from his face. He reached behind him and removed the scissors, dropping them to the floor. His hand was coated with blood. “Why? Why would you hurt me, Kate? I did it for you. For you! It was all for you. But you’re making me angry, Kate.”
Hatcher raised the gun at her. And the gargoyles still did nothing. Why weren’t they doing something?
Call them, Praesus. Call them.
What worked before wasn’t working now. The little gargoyle only looked at her.
Now what?
From behind Hatcher, a large gray wolf stepped into view, its body low, ears pinned. Declan was here somewhere, and he’d brought one of the werewolves. Hopefully Ian was somewhere safe.
“He’s convinced you to trick me, to hurt me.” Hatcher’s lip quivered as he trained the gun on her head.
And still the damned gargoyles did nothing. She heard them behind her as they landed on the building. Kate looked at the barrel of the gun, steeling herself for the shot.
The wolf was close enough to pounce.
“You love him. You love him, and you’re just going to get rid of me, just like I did Michael! You stabbed me! Why? After everything I’ve done for you? I love you, Kate. Why are you with him?”
“I care about him,” Kate said.
“LIAR!” Hatcher was shaking now. And crying.
Gargoyles clung to the outside of the church. “You didn’t give me a chance!” Hatcher shrieked. The wolf leapt, teeth bared. It pushed Hatcher forward. He screamed, but managed to roll over as the big wolf moved in once more. It bit down, shaking him hard. There was blood. So much blood.
Kate pounded on the window. “Damn you!” she shouted. The gargoyles continued to collect on the side of the building and on the roof. More gathered in the night sky.
The gun went off. Kate spun around to see the wolf on its side, Hatcher resting on his knees, clothes torn and soaked with blood. “You told that dog to attack me.”
It wasn’t a dog. It was a werewolf. And she had no idea what it meant if it bit Hatcher. Oh, shit.
“I didn’t tell it anything.” Where was Declan? What had happened to Ian? Panic squeezed her chest.
Hatcher grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth. He was bleeding internally. “Every man has his limits, Kate. If I can’t have you—”
“No! I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
I’m going to die, she thought.
Do it. Call them. Call them all. You know you want to.
“Make me believe you, Kate. It’s so hard. It’s getting so hard to believe people lately. What’s wrong with everyone?”
Kate slowly dropped to her knees. The wolf whimpered and stretched out a paw toward her. The wolf’s eyes met hers, and its tail wagged. Outside, the gargoyles shrieked.
Kate stared up at Hatcher, defiant. She might very well die tonight, but so would he.
Hatcher placed the barrel of the gun to her forehead. “Say it, Kate. Say you love me. Tell me that you understand what I’ve done for you. It’s just you and me now. That other guy ran away. See? He doesn’t care about you, Kate. Say you’ll give me a chance.”
Kate raised her chin, defiant. “Fate makes us choose, whether we like it or not.”
In her mind, she called to the gargoyles. I command you.
They answered by the thousands. She felt them, every one of them. New York, Chicago, Brussels, Paris. They’d heard her, and she was in control.
Kate’s words made Hatcher pause. They were the same ones she’d said in Dark Fall. She only hoped his hesitation would be enough to save her life. The barrel of the gun slipped from her forehead.
In her mind she saw the gargoyle coming, an enormous creature with the head of a dragon, the talons of an eagle, and the wings of a demon. She saw deep into its eyes as it turned toward the building. It furled its wings back as it prepared to shatter the window. Hatcher saw it, too. He blinked in disbelief as Kate threw herself down over the wolf, protecting it.
“Not there,” Hatcher whispered.
Head down, Kate felt the impact of the gargoyle’s body as it thrust its head through the window, spraying glass everywhere. The gargoyle reached in and plucked Hatcher off the ground with a taloned foot.
Hatcher screamed, and Kate didn’t dare look up, didn’t need to see to know that he was held firmly in the gargoyle’s grip.
“Sorry it had to end this way,” Kate said.
The creature eyed Hatcher with mild curiosity before tearing away flesh from his cheek and swallowing it. With a final shriek, the gargoyle withdrew its head from the building and fell away from the win
dow ledge, massive wings beating the air. Still alive, Hatcher fought against the creature’s grasp while other gargoyles jockeyed midair, trying to steal him away, tearing at him with their mouths and beaks. But the larger gargoyle would not be denied its prey.
The wolf’s breathing was shallow, its eyes closed. It was dying. It had given its life trying to save her.
“I’m so sorry.” She stroked the great wolf’s head. Tears began to cloud her vision.
Praesus chattered beside her, but Kate kept petting the wolf.
“Allow me.”
She lifted her head to look at Declan. He was dressed in a suit, as always. Under one arm, he carried a blanket.
“You’re too late,” she said.
Declan knelt next to the wolf. “Am I?”
Kate swiped at a tear. “Where’s Ian? Tell me you’ve saved him.”
“Ian is fine.”
Kate let out a sigh of relief. She resumed stroking the wolf’s head. “Who was it?”
“Watch.” He placed the blanket over the wolf.
Kate glanced at him. “I thought the blanket might be easier,” he said. “Transformations can be a little unsettling to watch.”
The blanket shifted as the form underneath began to change. Did they change back to human after death? Kate replayed the dinner at the castle in her head. She recalled as many of the faces as she could. It would be easier to turn away now, to not wait until the transformation was complete. Still, she wanted to know who’d tried to defend her. A male hand reached out from under the blanket.
He was alive? Startled, she looked up at Declan, then turned down an edge of the blanket. The dark hair, the face. She’d know him anywhere.
“Ian? Ian?”
This was what he’d meant about not being the same man. She kissed him, cradled his head in her arms as more tears fell. “You’re alive! You’re a werewolf? You tried to save me.”
Ian managed a weak smile. “You did fine all on your own,” he said.
She hugged him tightly, raining kisses on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Gently he pulled her to him. “We have a lot of catching up to do. Got the time?”
She laughed. “All the time in the world. Or at least the next eighty years or so.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Declan
Declan stood on the top floor of Saint Luke’s, looking out at the night sky. Heat lightning bloomed in the distance. It would rain soon. With a snap of his fingers, broken glass whirled around him, repairing itself and resetting into the window frame. Brick and stone, which the gargoyles had sheared and scratched from the sides of the old church, became whole again.
In a matter of minutes, the debris below was gone, leaving no trace of what had happened earlier. One by one, he felt the gargoyles fall into peaceful slumber. The ones at his castle and the few on the church itself. The gargoyles had chosen well.
Kate, Ian, and Praesus were safely back at Shadow Wood. It was just him now. Just him and the last of the gargoyles as they began to drift, began to dream—the ones in the church’s architecture and those worldwide.
The world was theirs again—the mortals. Their fate back in their own hands, their lives what they made of them, for better or worse.
A drop of water splashed onto the pavement below from the gargoyle’s face perched directly above the church’s entrance, but the rain had yet to fall.
Declan watched the street without sharing in the gargoyle’s reflection.
A couple hurried along the sidewalk. Not once did they look up.
Declan turned to leave.
Mortals. They were so unobservant.
EPILOGUE
Kate
“Walk with me,” Kate said to the two wolves waiting for her at the edge of the forest path. Stars filled the sky, and the full moon was the brightest Kate had ever seen. It cast a silvery glow over the barren trees ahead of them. That was good—Declan would have plenty of lighting.
A cold wind whipped around her. One of nature’s favorite seasons, autumn, had started to wind down. Winter seemed as though it might come early. She imagined how magnificent the castle and the grounds must look covered in a pristine blanket of snow. She might miss some of it, depending on her filming schedule in Italy. That was far enough from Vancouver, from all that had happened.
There was still a warrant out for Hatcher. The police had been able to match his handwriting. He’d had photos of her everywhere in his apartment, and they had plenty of phone records between him and Michael. They’d gotten it wrong, though, and Kate let them. They’d believed that Hatcher had threatened Michael. Fans thought Michael was a hero of sorts. They thought he’d died trying to warn her. Shirley, Heather, and her fans were all worried that Hatcher was still out there, biding his time.
Kate knew they’d never find him.
It had been hard to leave Heather, but her friend had been so happy that Kate was dating again, she practically packed Kate’s bags for her.
For now, Kate was content to live at Shadow Wood.
“It’s a nice night for a gathering, wouldn’t you say? Even so, we should stay close to the paths, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’m still a little new to this, and I don’t have your night vision.”
The wolves glanced at her as they acknowledged her request. Kate knew both of them well: a large gray male and a medium-size black female. But she knew the male wolf by heart—every variation of his coat, the richness of gold and brown in his eyes, the sound of his call, the softness of his pelt, and of course, his expressions. In human form, she and Ian had spent hours together, both in and out of the castle, but the rooftop had become one of their favorite spots to watch the stars together. He’d stay here and finish his latest novel while she was on set—a paranormal thriller. Since she’d learned to master her abilities, travel wasn’t difficult for her, and they’d be together most every night.
The moonlight glistened on Ian’s coat as he trotted slightly ahead of her. While Ian never changed to wolf form in the castle, and rarely in the open grounds surrounding it, he loved nothing better than to become a wolf once he was deep inside the forest.
Sara, the other wolf, had become one of Kate’s closest friends. All too soon, Sara would have to return home—back to her veterinarian practice in North Carolina. But she would return next spring.
A pair of nestlings called out for their feedings in the tree branches high above them. Kate and the wolves had passed too close to their stick-and-rabbit-fur nest high in the stark trees. The nestlings leered at them, cawing in hunger and agitation.
Kate was glad the parents weren’t anywhere close-by. The other night she’d seen the adults hunting for rodents to take to their nests. They were nasty-looking birds—if you could call them a bird at all with their glowing eyes, gnarled beaks, and half-feathered, half-leathery bodies.
Despite the things that lurked here at Shadow Wood, Kate felt safe, much more than in the mortal world. In the cold drafts that occasionally made their way into the corridors, she found warmth. In the ever-watching gargoyles, she found comfort. Yes, there were things here in this world that mere mortals feared—things that crept, lurched, slithered, and crawled. And she knew that they were all here—tonight—hiding in the shadows, watching. Still, that didn’t bother Kate. There were darker demons in the mortal world.
The late autumn wind rustled through the trees, softly at first, then louder, as if to send a warning to those who would take heed. Up ahead, she could see the firelight where everyone had started to gather.
The time had come. Kate spotted Declan standing next to Von Hiller. Von Hiller waved, but Declan just smiled, his gray-blue eyes matching the fire’s intensity. The two men were dressed down for the occasion, wearing jeans, boots, and black coats. Those who lived at Shadow Wood and those who visited took their place around the crackling warmth of the fire; the anticipation on their faces was evident by the fire’s dancing light.
Kate loved the night. On nights li
ke these, when the moonlight cast its magic into the corridors and pathways, she liked to walk among the shadows and listen. On nights like these, she knew the time had come once again for Declan to tell the tale.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to my street team, affectionately known as Mich’s Minions. They do a tremendous job of spreading the word about my books, and I’m beyond lucky to have them. A few of them have gone above and beyond, and I’d love to give them a shout out. Thank you, Shana Benedict, Shirley Deeds, Brittni Evans, Sara Fae Graham, Laura Moore Helseth, Cate Knox, Heather Love, Ray Plasse, and Amanda Shofner. If you recognize some of their names, dear reader, you’re very observant. Each of them lent their first or last names to characters in Of Shadow and Stone. And yes, I did give them a choice (mostly) if they wanted their namesakes to live or die. But trust me, no actual members of Team Minion were harmed in the making of this book.
Thanks to my agent, Scott Miller at Trident Media, for all the advice and support.
No acknowledgment would be complete without mentioning all the hard work of my critique partners: D. B. Reynolds, Leslie Tentler, and Steve McHugh. You guys are my rock.
As always, thanks to my family—hubby and my two dogs. Waves to my sister who has loved Shadow Wood and Declan from day one. Thanks, sis!
To my late mother who lived with me before she died. She cooked and did the laundry so that I could write in the evenings. She always believed in my ability to write. It is because of her that I have such a great love of books. When I was very young, she read to me every night. Some of my best childhood memories were going to the library with her. It took me until my fourth novel to dedicate a book to her, not because she recently passed, but because I first wrote the prologue to Of Shadow and Stone shortly before her death. Back then, I just didn’t have the rest of the story idea down enough to continue writing it. Mom became very sick soon after, and I set the idea aside. It wasn’t until last year that I had a solid enough story line and finished the last rewrite. Thanks, Mom. For everything.
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