The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series

by Pauline Gruber

  Jude suppresses a smile. “Bernard…Sheldon. Lucy is sixteen years old. I would feel better knowing she had a dependable car. I know Lucy’s safety is as important to you as it is to me.” There it is again. Charm. Loads of it. And that tone of voice as if he, Sheldon, and Bernard are all on the same team, fighting the same cause. I can see my uncles are buying it, too.

  Jude wants to keep me safe? Kind of a funny statement given that he’s the most dangerous thing in my life. And I suspect my uncles are the opposite of safe now that they’ve made his acquaintance.

  Bernard nods, clears his throat again. “But—”

  “I am a wealthy man, so this isn’t a hardship for me.” Jude holds his hands together as if in prayer and bows toward my uncles. “Please allow Lucy to accept this gift.”

  Something about the way he says the word please sounds suspicious. And then it hits me. Jude is hypnotizing my uncles. My fingertips burn.

  I slam my hands on the table. “Jude, that’s enough!”

  A tiny spark spits off my left index finger and finds its mark on Jude’s hand, distracting him just enough from eye contact with my uncles.

  “The egg casserole!” Bernard gasps. He sets his coffee cup down with a thud. Brown liquid sloshes over the rim and spills onto the table. I mop it up and glare at Jude. He shrugs at me, his sly smile still in place.

  I don’t want Jude’s present. The last time I accepted a gift from him, he wound up kidnapping my boyfriend. What will this car cost me?

  “I’m sorry,” I announce. All faces turn to me. “I can’t accept this. I’m not even close to getting my license.”

  Jude smiles. It’s a dangerous smile. Goose bumps break out on my arms.

  “It’s bad manners to reject a gift, Lucy,” Jude says evenly. His eyes are hard as marbles. I see the warning in them. What is he trying to tell me? Accept the gift or Marcus is no longer safe? Or he will take his anger out on the kids I nanny for? What will he do to my uncles?

  “Lucy, say thank you,” Sheldon urges, a look of surprise on his face, although whether by my lack of graciousness or by this ridiculously generous gift, I don’t know.

  Bernard nods at me.

  Marcus’s eyes burn holes through me and I know he’s disappointed by my silence. I can’t imagine the super human effort he’s making right now.

  “Thank you,” I say stiffly.

  After breakfast, Sheldon, Bernard, and Marcus stand on the porch as I walk Jude to his car. “I can’t believe you were hypnotizing my uncles. Don’t you dare do that again. Ever.”

  “So long as they fall in line, it won’t be necessary.” Jude slides into his car. “Speaking of which, I recommend you talk your uncles out of the vacation they’re planning.”

  We didn’t talk about the vacation in front of Jude. Then it hits me. He saw the travel brochures.

  “That’s my girl,” Jude says. His car purrs to life.

  “I am not your girl.”

  Once inside, my uncles return to the kitchen to clean up.

  “That’s some car,” Bernard says.

  “I can’t believe Lucy has to go to the Lexus dealership for a lesson,” Sheldon says.

  I grimace as they ooh and ah over the car.

  “Jude was furious when he saw the photos,” I tell Marcus, nodding at the collages on the wall in the living room. “And I’m not allowed to go on vacation with my uncles. Or else.”

  “Sorry!” Marcus, pale and sweaty, races from the room.

  Chapter Three

  “Not my finest moment,” Marcus says an hour later. He paces his apartment, shirtless, his white and gray wings pulled tight against his back. I press my hands against his chest, forcing him to stop.

  I jerk my hands away. “You’re burning up.”

  “It’s normal.” He shrugs. “Fighting the change causes my body temperature to sky rocket.”

  “You should’ve left us and come here. Or gone to the roof. You could’ve changed earlier, and no one would’ve seen you. Why put yourself through that?”

  He grimaces. “He’s dangerous, Lucy. Do you really think it’s wise having him anywhere near your uncles? What if they decide they don’t like him and forbid you to see him?”

  “You act like I invited him over,” I complain, plunking down on the couch.

  Marcus won’t admit it, but this isn’t just about Jude and my uncles. He doesn’t want Jude anywhere near me. And he’s upset about the gift.

  “I didn’t want the stupid car,” I mutter.

  “It’s not about the car,” he says. “Although it did bug me that you gave in so easily.”

  “Like I had a choice. You don’t get it. The whole conversation, the purpose of his visit. It was a veiled threat to me to cooperate.”

  Marcus’s stony expression tells me I’m being dense. “Lucy…he was getting to know your uncles—”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, duh.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” He sits on the couch beside me.

  “Getting to know them in a supernatural way. He’s a demon. By the end of the visit, I’m sure he knew things about them that humans wouldn’t.”

  I don’t like his ominous tone of voice. Nervous laughter bubbles up my throat. “Like what?”

  “That their favorite city is San Francisco.” Marcus ticks off on his fingers. “That Sheldon takes high blood pressure medication for which he needs a prescription. They drink a unique brand of coffee, which can only be found at one chain store. Their accounts are held at the bank two blocks from here. They drive an old Volvo, which would need special order parts in the event of repairs.” Marcus’s eyes burn into mine. “If the three of you were to disappear, it wouldn’t take much effort for Jude to find you.”

  I suddenly forget how to breathe. “You think Jude picked up on all that?”

  “Jude’s brain works like a computer. He absorbs everything, and it’s forever embedded in his head.” Marcus looks at me soberly. “This wasn’t a social call. This was a reconnaissance mission.”

  * * * *

  “Good morning, kiddo,” Sheldon says as he breezes into the kitchen Monday morning. I pause with a spoonful of Cheerios halfway to my mouth, gauging his tone. Faux cheerful—not good. That means a lecture is soon to follow, and I’m pretty sure Jude will be the topic. I start shoveling cereal into my mouth.

  By noon yesterday, suspicion had replaced my uncles’ initial thrill over meeting Jude. There had been hushed conversations between them throughout the day. I tried to ignore it and stay out of the line of fire, but Bernard’s face as he brings the newspaper to the table tells me my avoidance tactics are at an end.

  “That was quite a shock meeting your dad yesterday,” Bernard says.

  Sheldon sits down next to him. “We need to talk about how much contact he’s going to have with you, Lucy.”

  I say nothing but increase my Cheerio shoveling speed.

  “Are you happy here…with us?” Sheldon blurts out.

  I nearly choke on my breakfast. I look up from my cereal bowl and see how drawn both their faces are. Do they think I would leave them for Jude?

  “I’m sorry for not telling you about Jude.” The lies come a little easier than they used to. Whatever it takes to keep my uncles safe. “Because of his history with Momma and how she turned out, I didn’t know how you would react.”

  Sheldon levels his gaze at me. “You have to know that secrecy is never the answer.”

  “You need to trust us, and we need to be able to trust you,” Bernard adds.

  “You’re both right, and I’m sorry.” I meet Sheldon’s gaze head-on. “And I have no intention of moving in with Jude if that’s what you’re worried about. This is my home. You’re stuck with me.”

  “Good to hear, kiddo,” Sheldon says, breaking into a smile.

  I kiss them both, then deliver my bowl and spoon to the sink. My uncles exchange a look as I pass the table. Unease? Fear? Whatever it was, I wasn’t supposed to see it.

  Chapter Four<
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  “How long is this supposed to take?” I ask, peeking into the pot of bubbling liquid. Sulfur. I wrinkle my nose against the horrible, rotten egg smell. The potion doesn’t look like much, but if it works to vanquish Seamus—the demon who tried to kill me last year for the sake of his grudge against Jude—then I don’t care. Not that I’m in a hurry for him to show up again any time soon.

  “It’s your first day of practice and already you’re impatient?” Persephone reaches over the sink and pushes up the window to air out her kitchen. From the look of her blue, green and black paisley top and maroon stretchy pants, you would never know she’s a powerful witch.

  Persephone’s trademark frown is in place, but there’s also a twinkle in her eyes and the corner of her mouth twitches. Both fall away when she looks at me.

  “Lucy, you can’t race home to watch over your uncles every minute of the day. I’m keeping an eye on them. I can sense if Jude is near, which he isn’t. I will let you know if there’s something you need to worry about.” She arches an eyebrow sharply. “Or are you trying to get out of your lesson? You said you were ready to learn the craft.”

  Am I being hypersensitive about Sheldon and Bernard? I don’t trust Jude. Persephone doesn’t get it. He’s been excluded my whole life, and since our bizarre breakfast together, I don’t think his grudge died with Gram and Momma. I think it’s now targeted at my uncles, who he perceives as the latest barrier between him and me. “As long as you promise to help keep an eye on them,” I say, trying to shake my uneasiness.

  “Of course.” The lines leave her brow as she turns back to the rows of herbs laid out on her kitchen counter. She hands me a bundle. “Now tell me. Can you identify these?”

  The leaves look like a hand with pointy fingers. Five fingers. I remember them from one of Gram’s books, can picture her narrow scrawl in the margins. “Mugwort?”

  “Correct.” Persephone smiles and nods her encouragement. “What’s it most commonly used for?”

  I nibble my bottom lip for a moment. I absently twirl the bundle between my fingers. Mugwort. Was it used for charm spells? Healing? Memory loss? There are so many herbs…so many uses, and a lot of them are similar. What’s worse is there are ten different herbs that could be used for the same purpose. How am I supposed to memorize them all?

  “For protection spells?” My voice raises an octave, giving away my uncertainty.

  “It can be, yes,” Persephone says. “However, it’s most commonly used to strengthen divinatory abilities.”

  I set the bundle of herbs on the counter with a heavy sigh. I remember it now. Persephone probably thinks I’m slacking off on my studies. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

  “You’re distracted,” Persephone says as she pulls the whistling teakettle from the stove. She pours steaming water into two mugs, both of which hold a metal tea infuser. She hands one cup to me, and I study the yellow colored water. “It’s made from dried mugwort.”

  I make a face at the bitter smell. “Do you blame me? I own a car I can’t drive that I don’t even want. My uncles are worried I’ll move in with Jude.” I frown, something I’ve been doing a lot lately. “Then there’s this whole vacation thing.”

  “Vacation thing?”

  “Jude warned me not to go on a trip with my uncles, to talk them out of it. It goes right along with what Marcus said. Jude’s worried my uncles are going to steal me away.”

  “I would be careful if I were you, Lucy,” Persephone says, her eyes burning into me. “Jude’s behaving right now. He’s maintaining open lines of communication with Henry and me. Even Aiden has noticed he’s less volatile.”

  It’s a big deal for Jude to make an effort with Gram’s two best friends and fellow witches. As far as Marcus’s pseudo brother, Aiden, I don’t put a lot of stock in anything he has to say. He doesn’t like me and the feeling is mutual.

  Persephone blows a dark brown curl from her eyes. “I agree that leaving town is a bad idea. See if Sheldon and Bernard will go without you. Tell them the Douglas’s can’t do without you. I will look after you.” She nods at the herbs in my hand. “Now, back to mugwort and its common uses.”

  How will I convince my uncles to go on vacation without me? Sheldon’s going to blow a gasket for sure. I pickup the bundle again, turning it over in my hand, holding it to my nose. The scent of mint is unmistakable. Too bad the tea doesn’t smell the same.

  I hear Persephone’s irritated sigh, but I can’t make myself care with so much swirling in my brain.

  “How about Henry and I cast a spell on them?”

  I snap my head up. “Don’t you dare.”

  A small smile plays on Persephone’s lips. “You know I wouldn’t, but I see I finally have your attention, young lady,” she chastises. “Besides, if Jude hypnotized them like you said, it’s best not to tinker with their minds right now.”

  My heart drops. “What’s wrong with their minds? Does Jude have some sort of control over them now? Can he read their minds, control them somehow?” I lower my voice. “Will they go crazy like Momma?”

  Persephone considers me for a moment. “Demons utilize hypnosis for two reasons. To manipulate, but also to get a foothold into someone’s mind.”

  I struggle to keep myself from freaking out. “What do you mean by foothold?”

  “He can sift through their thoughts.”

  “And why would he do that?” My voice is nearly a growl.

  “In the event they decide to take you away—which they won’t—he can track them and you.”

  Heat races down my arms like a violent spasm. I flex my fingers to ease the white-hot sensation.

  “Look at it from Jude’s point of view. He finally has you in his life after sixteen years.”

  “Are you defending him?”

  “No. I’m trying to enlighten you about a father’s love for his daughter. Jude’s determined never to lose you again.” Her words act like a bucket of cold water, effectively dousing the heat in my arms and hands.

  “A father’s love,” I echo. Could it be that simple? Who am I kidding? With a demon for a father, there’s nothing simple about it.

  My shoulders slump and I return the herbs to the counter. “It’s not just that.”

  “You’re still worried about Dylan?” Persephone asks.

  Ever since Jude turned my good friend Dylan into a sort of demon, nothing’s happened. For four months, Dylan had been, well, just plain Dylan. Lately, though, his bouts of temper and his amped up performance in the weight room are clear signs something’s changing. It’s like Dylan’s on steroids, but he swears he’s not.

  “Have you talked to Marcus about it?”

  I shrug. “I tried. He dismisses my observations and claims Dylan is fine.”

  “Keep an eye on him and report back to me any other changes,” Persephone says. She nods toward my cup of tea. “Drink up. We’re going to discuss divination and dream analysis through the use of mugwort tea.”

  I blow into the cup of hot liquid as I bring it to my lips. Would it be possible to gain insight into what’s going on with Dylan? “How does divination work? Do I have to focus on a specific situation?”

  “For today, just drink the tea and report back to me about your dreams tonight and your thoughts over the next few days.”

  I glance over my shoulder as the pot of bubbling liquid on the stove hisses and burps.

  “Don’t even think about it. That potion is out of your league as a beginner.”

  “Do you think I’ll ever be as powerful as Gram?” It’s a huge relief to voice the doubt that’s been eating at me since I discovered I was a witch. “That I could take her place and join you and Henry? You know, the power of three?”

  “I’m certain of it,” she says.

  How can she be so sure? I glance at my cup of tea. Is it possible Persephone has seen the future? With a burst of enthusiasm, I gulp down half the mug. With my cheeks full as a chipmunk hoarding nuts, I rush over to the sink and spit the liquid
out.

  “Hot! Way too hot! And disgusting!” I pant into the sink. I dump the rest of the bitter tea down the drain and fill the cup with cold water. I drink it all in two gulps. “Are you trying to poison me?”

  “You know better than to swill a hot beverage.” Persephone frowns at me.

  “So gross. And I think I have blisters running down my throat.”

  “Let’s call it a day,” Persephone announces, wiping her hands on her maroon pants. She wraps the herbs in damp paper towels and stores them in the vegetable crisper. “Spend more time with your books, Lucy. I need you to step up your commitment. We’ll meet again next weekend.”

  I’m about to mention finals and how much studying I need to do, but I don’t want her to think I’m making excuses. Besides, my mouth and throat are on fire. Persephone’s right. I was distracted. Lesson learned. I need to pay attention. “Okay.”

  As I descend the stairs, I can’t help but wonder if Persephone was wrong when she said I was destined to be a great witch like Gram. I have the gene and the powers transferred from Gram’s raven, Lola, but does that really guarantee anything? So far most of the powers I’ve displayed are the evil kind I inherited from Jude.

  My foot hits the bottom stair at the same time someone knocks on the front door. My body stiffens. With everything that happened last year, the foyer door now stays locked and doorbells have been installed on the exterior of the three-flat building for each apartment. Maybe the doorbells aren’t working?

  I cross the foyer and peek out the peephole. Can’t be too careful given that Seamus is out there, and once he figures out I’m alive, he’ll hightail it back here to finish me off.

  But it’s not Seamus. I open the door and stand face-to-face with a woman with long wavy hair, the color of which is hard to describe. Maybe it had been brown once. Based on the red and golden streaks running through it, the deep golden skin, and the freckles decorating the bridge of her nose and cheeks, she spends a lot of time in the sun. Deep crinkly lines form at the corners of her eyes and mouth when she smiles at me. I have a difficult time tearing my attention from her eyes, which are a startling deep blue.