Embrace (The Gryphon Series Book 2)

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Embrace (The Gryphon Series Book 2) Page 1

by Stacey Rourke




  EMBRACE

  A Gryphon Series Novel

  Written by Stacey Rourke

  Bonus Material;

  The Sidekick Chronicles

  Vol I

  A Gryphon Series Novella

  All rights reserved. Published by Anchor Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

  Copyright 2012 Stacey Rourke

  Published by Anchor Group

  PO Box 551

  Flushing, MI 48433

  Anchorgrouppublishing.com

  Edited by Melissa Ringsted

  Cover Design by KC Designs

  To my husband, thank you for all your encouragement and for your willingness to share me with the imaginary people that live in my head.

  CHAPTER 1

  I raced through the trees at a speed no ordinary human could achieve. But then, I’m no ordinary human. My name is Celeste Garrett, and I happen to be a superhero. You know how it goes; your ancestors make a pact with a mythical being—in my case, the Gryphon—who then channels his powers through you. Suddenly, it’s up to you to fight an evil army and save the world. Wait, you don’t know? Huh. Guess it’s just me.

  At the moment I was in pursuit of a very specific member of that vile brigade. A shapeshifter by the name of Darious. A few months back ole Dari boy told his boss, Barnabus—who happened to be able to transform into a friggin’ dragon—where I lived. Barnabus paid my house a visit and nearly killed my beloved, if slightly wacky, Grams. Sure, she pulled through and I slayed the dragon, but based purely on principle, this tattletale demon needed to die.

  “Celeste!! Wait for us!” My younger sister Kendall has wings, yet somehow still managed to lag behind. I ignored her and pumped my legs even harder. This confrontation with Darious was long overdue. Besides, I didn’t need anyone’s help to bring him down.

  The moonlight reflected off of the ebony panther sprinting ahead of me. Like synchronized dancers we dodged and weaved through the trees, each passed as nothing more than a blur and a whisper. Up ahead was the creek. I smirked. The water would slow him down. Kitties, even fierce ones, don’t like water.

  I had every square foot of this terrain memorized. After all, it was my home and training ground, Gainesboro, Tennessee and the Appalachian Mountains that surround it. A great place to enjoy the wilderness and lure demons in for an impromptu smackdown.

  The panther came to an abrupt halt at the base of the creek. I dropped low to the ground and crept around him in a wide circle. I could see him, but he couldn’t see me. His yellow eyes scanned the darkness as he paced beside the water. A twig snapped under my foot and the panther whirled around. With his ears flattened to his head, his muzzle curled up in a vicious growl. Since my sneak attack was ruined, I rose to my feet. Maybe being in the mouth of a dragon had jaded me. Or, maybe it was because I have a brother that can turn into a gigantic lion. Whatever the cause, I was miles from intimidated by this scrawny panther.

  “I have a moral dilemma, maybe you can help me with.” The panther swiped at the air between us, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I took another step forward, a wry smile curled across my lips. “I can’t decide whether to make it look like you put up a fight or just go ahead and rip your head right off your shoulders. Thoughts? I need feedback.”

  To my surprise, Darious rose up on his hind legs. His skeletal system cracked and popped as he morphed back to his human state. Sweat drenched his gray-pallored skin. His ink black hair clung to his forehead. “I have valuable information!” He trembled. “I’m willing to trade it for my life.”

  I fell into a crouch, posed for attack. “What could you possibly say that would be worth that trade for me? Barnabus put my grandmother in the hospital, because of you. My brother got stabbed in the chest, because of you. I nearly died, because of you. Why would I let you live?”

  “Because Barnabus was just a pawn!” As the words rushed out, Darious’ eyes darted back-and-forth nervously. “He was never the mastermind behind the Dark Army! Our real leader has plans for you, horrible plans!”

  “Yeah-yeah-yeah, I’ve heard it all before. They wanna kill me because of my link to the Gryphon. Seriously, save your breath dude. ‘Cause you don’t have too many of them left.”

  “No! It’s much more than that!” he pleaded.

  Unfortunately for him, I was done listening. I sprinted at him and sprung in the air. I gained momentum by repelling off a sapling, then swung at him. He bared his teeth and extended his dagger-like claws. My roundhouse kick connected with the side of his head at the same time his claws sank into my side. His bones snapped. Darious melted away into a substance resembling tar. But the damage was already done.

  I landed hard and stumbled from the searing pain that ripped through my core. Afraid to look down, I put both hands over the wound. They were instantly drenched with warm stickiness. The Gryphon granted me rapid healing, but this time it wasn’t going to be quick enough. Blood gushed out of me so fast and freely I already felt detached from my body. A painful, wheezing breath was all I could force through my laboring lungs. My knees buckled. I folded to the ground. Sprawled in the dirt, I could do nothing but lie there as my life-blood drained out of me. For a moment I could see clearly enough to glimpse the stars that peeked through the trees. My vision swam out of focus. Faint voices and footsteps echoed around me, but the noise sounded like it was filtered down a long tunnel. Darkness claimed me.

  CHAPTER 2

  I was bathed in a warm, glowing light. Every pore of my body sang as all my pain melted away. The glorious feeling might’ve had me wondering if I’d died and gone to heaven, if it hadn’t been accompanied by incessant arguing mixed with chanting.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s our job to fight the Dark Army and kill demons. She killed a demon. Job well done. So she got a little banged up in the process. Kendall’s taking care of it. Problem solved.” That gruff voice belonged to my older brother, Gabe. The same power that picked me to be the Chosen One selected him to be my sentry. To carry out this task he was granted the ability to shapeshift into a lion. Which makes fighting for the remote with him very tricky, let me tell ya. He doesn’t have to go feline to be intimidating, though. The guy rivals Lou Ferrigino in size and has been known to exhibit the same Hulk-like temper. Now was not one of those moments. Odd as it was, he seemed to be sticking up for me.

  “Amiculum. Tulela. Servo. Amiculum. Tulela. Servo. The big deal, Gabe…amiculum. Tulela. Servo. Is that she nearly got herself killed, again. Amiculum. Tulela. Servo. If Kendall hadn’t been here to heal her, and I hadn’t been here to block her essence with an incantation—amiculum, tulela, servo—the Dark Army would sense that she, and therefore the Gryphon, were weakened—amiculum, tulela, servo—and they would be storming the Spirit Plane right now! Amiculum. Tulela. Servo. Amiculum. Tulela. Servo.” Alaina, our tour guide into all things mythical, read way high on the perturbed meter. I have that effect on people.

  Gabe’s tone was cool confidence, which I’m sure irked Alaina all that much more. “But Kendall was here, and so were you. No biggie. I think you’re overreacting.”

  The chanting stopped. Alaina’s words came short and abrupt. “The fact that you honestly believe that proves to me that you are nothing more than an arrogant, overly confident man-child.”

  “Yeah?” And here came the Hulk temper. “Well, this man-child has risked his…”

  “Amiculum. Tutela. Servo. Amiculum. Tutela. Servo.”

  “Don’t you chant and ignore me!”


  “Would you two shut up so I can heal her?” Kendall’s voice sounded strained. “I swear you two bicker like little old ladies anymore.”

  Gabe harrumphed. Alaina kept right on chanting her incantation.

  Slowly, I reconnected with my body. My eyes fluttered open. A pair of ocean blue eyes enhanced with long, perfectly curled lashes peered back at me. Beyond that were pert, dainty features, a flawless complexion, platinum hair styled in a short, fashionable disarray. Haloed by light and framed by a pair of magnificent ivory wings. Two things popped into my head as I gazed up at my sister. She looks like a modern day angel, and genetics can be downright cruel.

  My gaze flicked past her. A shimmering blue dome of energy surrounded us. Iridescent colors waved through it like light reflecting off a bubble. With her hands raised Alaina chanted the words that kept the dome humming with protective energies.

  “Force field down, Mr. Spock. I’m okay.” My weak croak sounded anything but okay.

  “Cesso!” With that one word our bubble of protection popped. Alaina’s hands fell to her feathered sides, her expression equal parts relief and annoyance.

  “Cutting it kinda close, don’t ya think?” Keni quirked her professionally arched brow and retracted her wings.

  With a hand on my back she helped me sit up. “Nah. You and your feathers haven’t failed me yet.”

  “You could’ve avoided getting stabbed altogether if you would’ve waited for us.” Kendall folded her arms across her chest in a gesture that made her look way too much like our Mom.

  I pushed off the ground and stood up to give myself a quick assessment. My fitted T-shirt was a total loss. One side had been shredded to streamers and the entire thing was saturated with blood. But my jeans only had a little splatter on them. Thankfully, I bled primarily on the ground. Well, as thankful as a person can ever really be about bleeding profusely.

  “You guys were taking your dear sweet time. But I had it handled.” I shrugged as I brushed debris off my pants.

  “That was handled?” the normally cool-headed Alaina erupted. Her pale skin pinkened with anger. “You got stabbed and nearly bled to death! First the Rokurokubi demon, then the Jikininki. Now this? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. I just miscalculated a kick and Darious landed a lucky shot. No biggie.”

  Alaina pressed her lips together in a stern line. Her avian eyes flared with disapproval. “Yes, Celeste. It very much is a biggie.” Her head twitched in a way that was more bird-like than human. “Do you not comprehend what is at stake?”

  I held up one hand to stop her rant. “Yeah, fate of the world. I die and the earth is over-run by a nasty infestation of evil. I know. In case you forgot, this is all still pretty new to me. I’m doing the best I can.”

  She held up her hands like she wanted to grab me and shake me. “But your methods! Your cavalier attitude!”

  “Have worked pretty darn good so far. But if you’re unhappy with my performance by all means do me a favor and pick someone else to be the Conduit.” Bitterness seeped out before I could stop it. “Oh, wait, you can’t. Because I’m the one and only Chosen One. So I guess we’re both out of luck.”

  Gabe sauntered up behind me and bumped me with his shoulder, a move that would’ve sent me tumbling before I got my supernatural boost. Now it’s only purpose was to lighten the mood. “Calm it down, Alaina. She knows what she’s doing. Plus, I’m sure she got the info out of him that we needed before she finished him.”

  “Uh…info? What info?”

  Gabe stared at me blankly for a moment, then turned to Alaina. “I take it back. You were right. She’s an idiot.”

  I glared up at him while I tightened my ponytail. “What did we need to know that we don’t already?”

  He folded his hands behind his wide back and rocked from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again. “Oh, nothing really. Just small, insignificant details, like who took over after you killed Barnabus. Who he got his orders from. What their plans are. Stuff like that.”

  I struggled to keep my tone assertive. “He didn’t know anything.”

  Kendall wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt, she always does, but even she couldn’t hide her concern. “Did you even ask?”

  I kicked at the ground with the toe of my shoe. “Not in so many words, no.”

  “Were there any words?” Alaina’s feathers ruffled and smoothed. “Or were your actions completely rash?”

  Gabe gave a sarcastic snort. “Didn’t you know, Alaina? That’s Cee’s M.O. now. Has been ever since…”

  Kendall made a slicing motion across her neck. My brother’s words cut off as he sucked air in through his teeth. An awkward silence followed in which all three of them looked anywhere but at me.

  In confusion, I glanced from one of them to the next, my ponytail tickling across my shoulders with every jerk of my head. “Since what?”

  Judging from Keni’s face she was either bracing for an explosion or had smelled something rotten. “Since the Alec…situation.”

  On my list of hot button topics, that was numero uno. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I spun toward the path to the west of us that led down the mountain and strode off with purposeful strides.

  “But you need to talk about it, Celeste. It’s the only way you’ll work through it and find closure,” Alaina’s velvety voice called after me.

  Her words awoke the gnawing pain and uncertainty I’d suffered with ever since that day in the hospital…

  I stopped walking and turned my head just enough for her to hear me. “There is no closure about this. And there won’t be.”

  By the time I showered off the last remnants of blood and grime, the house had grown quiet with the stillness of night. Clad in an old T-shirt and boxer shorts I padded from the bathroom to the bedroom. A sliver of light under the door and the sound of Sports Report signaled Gabe was still awake. Not that I had any intention of talking to him. Conversation had been sparse since we got home from patrolling, and that was okay by me. There was really nothing to say. Hallmark doesn’t make “sorry your life is a freak show” cards for a reason. Even they know that particular sentiment is wasted.

  My feet sank into the plush beige carpet as I crossed the room and clicked on my bedside lamp. Across from me Kendall was face down in her pillow snoring softly. I pulled back my lilac comforter to find a scroll tied with a red silk ribbon lying just beneath my pillow. I exhaled an audible sigh. There was a time when the sight of these mysterious scrolls gave me a nasty case of the Wiggins, because I didn’t know who they came from, or how they got here. Now they just made my already battle weary body even more tired. My bed squeaked as I flopped down on it. Without any kind of formality I grasped the thick paper and freed it of its ribbon. Rumor had it the words in these enigmatic notes were written in Gaelic, a language I don’t speak or read. Yet for some baffling reason I could understand the words written without a problem. Weird, yes. But in the scheme of all the other elements of my life, relatively tame.

  They come. The prize they seek, the well of a warrior’s strength. To prevail you must doubt what you trust, and trust what you doubt.

  I stared at the leathery paper. My exhausted brain hoped the cryptic riddle would be explained in a follow up paragraph. Of course it wasn’t. That would be too easy. For a moment I toyed with the idea of waking Keni, or showing it to Gabe. Instead, I pressed my lips together in a firm line, crumpled up the note, and tossed it in the waste basket. Whoever “they” were, and whatever they were after would reveal itself soon enough. It always did. Then I’d handle it just like I handled Darious tonight. It was as simple as that.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Next slide.”

  Click. Whirr.

  “Liberty Leading the People by Eugene Delacroix. This piece is again from the romantic period. Many scholars mark the end of the French Revolution as the beginning of the romantic era, and yet the revolution is the very subject mat
ter of this painting.” With bespectacled eyes Professor Nazleer (dubbed Professor Nose-hair by students) looked up at the lot of us that made up his art history class. He had a pinched face, a hooked nose, and always dressed in turtlenecks and tailored pants. “What are our thoughts on this piece?”

  “That Lady Liberty has a nice rack.” The football jock seated two rows in front of me guffawed and smacked the scrawny kid beside him. The kid winced but forced out a laugh to thwart further wallops.

  Professor Nose-hair peered down the bridge of his nose at the jokester, which made me wonder if he could see his plethora of nose hair from that angle. “Perhaps we answer as the college students we are supposed to be and not as though we have the mental capacity of a twelve year old.”

  Football dude hung his head like a scolded puppy.

  I was only vaguely aware of this interaction as I studied the painting projected on the screen. This piece had spoken to me when I saw it in our textbook. It depicted a moment in war. Bodies piled up on the ground. Men of all social classes and ages brandished weapons to fight. In the middle of it all, leading the way barefoot over the bodies, was a woman. She wore a beautiful golden dress that had fallen down to reveal her full bosom—hence Mr. Maturity’s comment. In one hand she held a musket, in the other the French flag. In her I saw a warrior, just like me.

  I raised my hand and waited for Nose-hair to nod in my direction. “I was struck by how true to herself the woman in the painting is in the face of adversity. She fights alongside the men, leads them in fact, but still maintains her femininity and sense of self.” A trait I deeply admired as I had yet to master it.

  A few of the other girls in the class nodded their agreement.

  “Wrong. Ludicrous.” The professor scoffed. “You are looking at her as a real woman as opposed to the symbol she is meant to be. A woman would not have fought during this time period, such a thing would be unheard of.” He threw his arms wide as he gestured to the screen. “She is Liberty. The mounded up corpses under her feet are the soldiers that sacrificed their lives for her. They are her pedestal. One she proudly marches forth on to state for all to hear; freedom!” His chest rose and fell, his beady eyes blazed with excitement. Then he seemed to remember where he was. He cleared his throat and readjusted his haughty demeanor. “Symbolism, Miss Garrett. A topic you may need to research further.”

 

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