Rocked by Love (Gargoyles Series)

by Christine Warren

  She exchanged glances with Dag, and he nodded encouragement. Last night, in preparation for this call, she had stared at the enhanced photo of Carver for what felt like hours. Every single hair on the back of her neck had stood up, and the pit of her stomach had descended into her Tribble slippers when she looked into the man’s smiling blue eyes. What looked back at her was not right; it was evil pure and simple.

  Hierophant or not, if Richard Foye-Carver had ever possessed a soul, he must have sold it to the Seven a long time ago. How he managed to pass himself off as an activist and a philanthropist she couldn’t understand for a minute. Every time she looked at him, she got sick to her stomach. If she were Catholic, she’d have crossed herself. As it was, she couldn’t stop herself from mentally pronouncing kaynahorah to ward off his evil eye.

  “Like I said, you don’t need to convince us,” Wynn said. “But if we’re going to come up with a way to stop him from doing just that, we need more information about their actual plan. We need details.”

  “Full details I don’t have, and trust me, I wish I did. But you all know more about the way the Order operates than I do, so let me tell you what I found, and maybe you can piece it together better than I can.” Kylie looked at her notes on an adjacent computer screen. “I found chatter on the darknet about something called oblatio.”

  “It is their ritual of sacrifice that is demanded by the Seven,” Kees reported grimly.

  “Okay, context here paints a disturbing picture that oblatio is something pretty ordinary for them and that whatever is coming up would be more appropriately referred to as a molkh.”

  “Oh, crap, that’s bad,” Wynn breathed.

  Dag snarled, baring a fang when Kylie glanced at him. “Molkh is what you envision the Hierophant wants. It is a bloodbath, where both the souls and the blood of the victims are offered to their unholy masters.”

  “It also implies that my mate was on the correct path with her theory of the plan,” Knox said. “Molkh traditionally involves the summoning of lower demonic creatures who murder the victims and feed on the flesh while the released souls are then consumed by one of the Seven.”

  Kylie closed her eyes and swallowed back bile. “I was really hoping you weren’t going to say something like that. That clarifies my next item, though. The chatter indicated that there would be four ‘doormen’ serving inside the room, and that they’d be in charge of who got in, not who got out. I’m guessing those are the summoners?”

  “Yes. Not only will portals need to be opened to allow the creatures into the space, but if they hope to target that many victims, the gates must be held until sufficient numbers pass through.”

  “That’s got to be our biggest concern, then,” Fil said. “We need to keep those doors from opening. That’s our plan.”

  Spar picked up his mate’s hand and brought it to his lips, blocking his small smile. “Perhaps we should work out a small number of additional details,” he suggested.

  “Yes, like how we’re going to do it,” Ella offered.

  Fil sent her a teasing glare. “Nitpicker.”

  “Listen, Rembrandt—”

  Wynn cut in. “Excuse me, children? I think the obvious solutions all involve us being present, in the room, for a coordinated counterstrike. And that means we need to decide which of us is going to Boston and how soon we can get there.”

  “I already told you that Spar and I are there, and I meant every word. Just try and keep us away.”

  Wynn nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Which makes Dag and Kylie, Fil and Spar, and me and Knox.”

  “You wish to exclude us from the fun?” Kees growled, his eyes glinting with both humor and bloodlust. It made for an interesting expression.

  “Actually, I was just thinking about how synchronous it all seems,” Ella said, leaning into the camera. “Four nocturnis attempting to open four portals to the demonic planes. Four Guardians and four Wardens. Doesn’t it just seem like Fate?”

  To Kylie it seemed like something that fit way too perfectly to be true. It made her want to look over her shoulder and spit.

  “Ella and I will come as well,” Kees proclaimed, and Kylie sighed.

  “Looks like I’ll be furnishing those extra bedrooms sooner than I intended,” she said. “Just wait till my grandmother hears. She’ll be so pleased.”

  * * *

  “You got a doorbell!” Wynn beamed at her the minute Kylie opened the front door. “And look! You answered it and everything. Wearing clothes, no less. It’s so sweet.”

  “Get inside, you smart-ass,” Kylie grumbled, stepping back and waving in the onslaught of houseguests. “If we’re going to turn this place into a barracks, we might as well get on with it.”

  “Did your grandmother bake while she was here? Please tell me she did. I’ve been dreaming of her kichlach since we booked our plane tickets.”

  Kylie gave in to the urge to give her friend a hug while the circle of hulking males hauled in luggage and exchanged greetings in the form of grunts and nods. “She tried to teach me how to make them. Again. Ten minutes later, she was on her way to the closest kosher bakery to buy me a gift certificate.”

  “Yes, but did she leave any behind?”

  Kylie laughed. “She put them in the freezer. Her subtle way of reminding me not to have any leavened food during Passover.”

  “Score!”

  While Wynn scampered into the kitchen, quiet Ella stepped forward and took her turn for a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you in person,” said the art historian and the first one to be dragged into this big mess. “Wynn’s been talking about you for weeks now.”

  “Yeah, when she hasn’t been talking about your grandmother’s cookies.” Fil flashed her a grin and offered a brief one-armed embrace. “I’ve been fantasizing about stuffing so many in her mouth at once that she’d finally be forced to stop speaking for five minutes.”

  From the pile of testosterone near the bottom of the stairs, a deep voice emerged. “Did someone say cookies?”

  Ella shook her head. “Kees has a bit of a sweet tooth.”

  Kylie laughed. “Okay, everyone in the kitchen. We’ll have a nosh and get settled in before we get down to business. Remember, we’ve only got four days to pull this thing together.”

  “Yes, but the cavalry has arrived.” Fil swung her arm over Kylie’s shoulder and half dragged her down the hall after Wynn. “Everything will be fine. Just wait and see.”

  Oy. Kylie knew famous last words when she heard them. She just hoped the reality check wouldn’t hurt as bad as a hockey check. Maybe she could find some pads, though. Just in case.

  For a short while, they gathered in the kitchen over kichlach and coffee, tea, or soda like a group of friends who didn’t often get the chance to spend time together. They laughed and joked, teased and shared gossip, but the constant undercurrent whispered of the coming danger, and the interlude couldn’t last long. They all knew too well what they faced and how many lives were at stake. They also knew that they stood as the only defense between humanity and the Darkness.

  Yet more evidence they should have a cool Avengers-style nickname, Kylie concluded. And capes. She would definitely be needing a cape for this.

  Soon enough, the group migrated to the living room, which sported a second sofa, two new chairs, and a couple of end tables hastily ordered and delivered to accommodate the influx of guests. Kylie had even remembered to buy lamps so that when they sat down to talk, they didn’t have to do it in the dark. Go her.

  Kees immediately claimed the end of the older sofa and pulled his mate down beside him. “We must get down to business,” he said in his gravelly, rasping voice. “Kylie, you will fill us in on the most recent developments.”

  Recognizing the order as a personality trait of the gigantic, dominant Guardian, Kylie managed not to get her back up and to reply civilly. Hey, look—personal growth.

  “The darknet has gone quiet,” she said, settling down on the floor while Dag took the cha
ir behind her. There were enough seats to go around now, but she was accustomed to the floor and found it perfectly comfortable. Especially with the new rug softening the hardwood surface. “I think they must be under orders to keep quiet now that the event is getting so close. I haven’t heard anything new in the last two or three days.”

  The others nodded, looking unhappy but far from surprised.

  “On a more positive note,” she continued, “I managed to get us all registered for the conference. When I first called, they told me it was closed and that next year I should be sure to keep an eye on the deadline.” Her smile, all teeth and no humor, showed what she had thought of that brush-off. “But when I told them my name and mentioned the possibility of a substantial donation to Carver’s foundation if the conference program impressed me, the organizers did manage to squeeze out a few badges for myself and my entourage. So, you guys get to be my entourage.”

  Fil bounced in her chair and sent her pale blond ponytail flying. “Ooh, ooh! I want to be the one who mouths off to the paparazzi and gets your name splashed all over the tabloids!”

  Wynn snorted. “Fine. I think we can handle being your plus seven if it means getting us into the event.”

  “Actually, I didn’t just get us into the event,” Kylie qualified. “I got four of us seats at the opening dinner.”

  Dag scowled. “You did not mention this to me.”

  She shrugged. “I’m mentioning it now so we can figure out who should use the tickets.”

  “Did you not initially speculate that the Order’s strike could come at this event almost as easily as at the keynote address?”

  “It was a possibility, but I really think they’ll go for the keynote. Bigger audience, more attention, and doing it on the final day of the conference is a lot more theatrical.”

  “But you could be wrong,” he snarled, baring his fangs at her. She found it totally unfair that he could call those up when not in his natural form just for the intimidation factor.

  Of course, the fact that she knew he would rather gnaw off his own arm than actually hurt her kind of balanced out the added threat. But still.

  “I could be,” she admitted, “but I’m not, so rather than waste time, let’s just move on and decide which of the three of us will attend.”

  “The four Guardians will attend this dinner event,” Dag decreed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest to denote he would listen to no arguments. “If you have mistaken the target of the Order, it would be too dangerous to allow the females to attend.”

  Said females turned four disbelieving gazes in his direction. Even the other Guardians had the good sense to wince and hang their brother out to dry. He’d put himself in that position, their expressions seemed to say, and he would need to dig his own way out of it.

  “Oh, no, he didn’t,” Ella breathed.

  Fil elbowed her in the ribs. “Shh! Do you think there’s time to make popcorn?”

  “To ‘allow’ us to attend?” Kylie scooted across the rug until she could turn around and look her Guardian full in the face. Or rather, look the Guardian full in the face, because no way in hell was she putting her claim on anyone who spewed that kind of sexist meshugas. “Since when did a single one of us ‘females’ stop to ask your permission, Goliath? Because I don’t remember this conversation. I hope I was funny.”

  “Damn,” Fil muttered from the sofa. “No popcorn.”

  “The idea of four frail females in a room full of nocturnis with the threat of demons entering at any moment?” Dag leaned forward in his seat until he could nearly press his nose to Kylie’s. “It would indeed make me laugh if such a thing were a remote possibility, but as I will turn back to stone before I allow it to happen, it is not worth so much of my energy.”

  The fist Kylie swung at that arrogant, testosterone-poisoned face never connected. Some kind of force field flung itself between knuckles and nose the instant before impact. Startled, Kylie looked around the room to see Wynn with her fingers pointed at them and an unhappy expression on her face.

  “Not that he doesn’t deserve the hit,” the witch said, “but I refuse to waste time on his bullshit attitude. Especially since I think it’s better if none of us attend the dinner.”

  “Why not?” Kylie snapped the question and reluctantly dropped her hand into her lap. Then, she scuttled across the floor to the opposite side of the coffee table from the sexist Guardian.

  Wynn explained. “Because I think it’s a bad idea to put the Order on their guard. Magic recognizes magic. If we plunk two Guardians and two Wardens down in the middle of a dinner the nocturnis think they control”—she did not even pause to acknowledge Dag’s snarl of protest—“they’ll be able to sense our presence. And if that happens, then they’ll know we’re onto them and they’ll have to suspect we figured out their plan. The only logical reaction to that is to either change the plan or abandon it.”

  The witch shook her head. “I’m sorry, but after all the time and energy we’ve invested in figuring this plan out, the last thing we want is for them to change it. If they do that, we’re back in the dark, and the chances of us coming up with an effective counter to the new plan become almost nil. And abandoning the plan altogether? That just means they’ll strike at another time and place, and we won’t have a warning.”

  Ella nodded. “She’s right. The element of surprise is one of the biggest advantages we have going into this. If we lose that, our chances of success go way down. Yeah, they’ll sense us at the keynote address, too, but we’ll have a much bigger crowd to blend into, and by then, it will probably be too late to change their plan. They’re a lot more likely to go through with it at that stage even if they know we’re there.”

  “Okay, all that makes sense,” Kylie acknowledged, “but us staying away until Sunday and then just strolling in blind does not. We need to get an idea of the layout of the room, the entrances and exits, where the stage will be set up, what pathways will be laid, how traffic will flow. All of that will not only help us figure out where they’re most likely to set the portals, it will also tell us the best ways to get people out quickly if we need to do that.”

  “Which means someone will have to take a look around at some point,” Fil said. “I’m thinking Saturday afternoon or evening. For an early Sunday event that large, the convention staff is going to want to set up the room the day before at least, to give themselves plenty of time.”

  “And this risks the same problem of detection as attendance at the dinner,” Dag grumbled.

  “Not necessarily,” Spar said, his gaze turning to Kylie. “While I do feel a small aura around your Kylie, she has not yet been Warden long enough to read as one. Her magic has such a unique flavor to it that it does not make one think of the Guild at all, especially not from any distance. I think she might pass entirely undetected, or if not, as merely an untrained human with potential. Someone might target her for recruitment, but I doubt they would perceive her as a threat.”

  Kylie thought of the possibility of a nocturni attempting to lure her to the dark side as they had with Dennis Ott and his girlfriend. “Yeah, that would go well for everyone.”

  “Wynn is the other logical choice,” Knox growled, not sounding happy with his own conclusion. “As much as I dislike the idea of sending you into such a nest of vipers without me by your side, you are the most likely to pass beneath their notice. Your magical energy still reads at first glance as witch, not as Warden. You should be able to pass as nothing more than a witch with a strong interest in the environmental actions the conference will be espousing.”

  “I agree.” Wynn smiled and leaned over to kiss him lightly. “But you get special brownie points for figuring it out on your own and not pouting about it too much.”

  Fil stifled a smirk. You know, eventually. “Alrighty then, so if Kylie and Wynn are going to be our advance team, when do we send them in to reconnoiter?”

  “The conference opens Friday afternoon, with the we
lcome dinner that evening. Since we’ve put the kibosh on attending the dinner, we definitely have to be there on Saturday, preferably early, or after the fuss I made getting on the list, it’s going to look weird.”

  “Well, nothing says we have to spend the whole day there,” Wynn said. “We can show up early to check in, disappear for a while, and go back when we think we have the best chance to get a look at the keynote room setup. At an event that big, it’s easy for people to assume you’re just at one of the other sessions if they don’t see you in theirs.”

  “Yeah, that could work in our favor.”

  “Gathering our information on Saturday will not allow us a great deal of time to set up our defenses,” Kees observed. “We will need to strategize the best method to deal with the attacks we expect and make plans that require only fine adjustments to the details in order to operate successfully.”

  “Agreed. And you in particular have a lot to learn,” Wynn said, fixing her gaze on Kylie. “Have you been practicing the things I showed you?”

  “Me?”

  “No, the other brand-new Warden in the room.” Her tone could teach dry to a desert. “Ella, Fil, and I have all experienced battle with the nocturnis. We know what to expect, but you don’t. Those exercises I taught you are going to become really important really fast.”

  “Yes, I’ve been practicing. Every day even.”

  “Good.” The witch pushed to her feet and motioned for the other women to join her. “Because the girls and I are going to have to teach you a few tricks. The nocturnis fight dirty, and they like to fight with magic. We’re going to give you a crash course in self-defense and show you what you need to know to help us either stop those portals from opening, or take them out fast, if they do manage to form. Got it?”

  All at once, the reality of everything they had been talking about for the past month came crashing down on Kylie’s head. She felt a whole lot like her cartoon namesake right after the Acme contraption blew up in his face. She wondered vaguely if her ears were smoking.

  But Kylie also knew that defeating her adversary meant a lot more than roast Road Runner for dinner. If she and her new friends failed to counter the Order’s planned attack, people would die. Hundreds of people, if not thousands. How could a person live with herself if she didn’t do every single thing in her power to prevent such a tragedy from happening?