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

by Pauline Gruber

  I reach for Marcus’s hand and squeeze it. “It’s okay.” I turn back to Garret. “My grandmother cast a shrouding spell over my mother and me to hide us from him.”

  Garret considers this. “Your grandmother must have been powerful.”

  I raise my chin. “She was.”

  “She’s dead.”

  I want to smack the knowing look off of his face. “My father wasn’t the demon who killed her,” I snap.

  Marcus tugs on my hand. “Are you done with the inquisition? If not, we’ll be leaving.”

  Garret stares him down. “Lose the tone, Marcus. I’m looking out for our kind, as I always have. It’s no wonder you’re spoiled, given the carefree existence you’ve led.”

  Marcus clenches and unclenches his jaw. His hand grips mine tightly. “Carefree? You don’t know anything about me or my upbringing. You dumped that job on a complete stranger a long time ago.”

  “Marcus!” Camille pushes herself away from the counter. “Don’t you dare speak to Garret like that. You have no idea what our life’s been like. Your father—” Marcus narrows his eyes at her. “Garret is chief of our council; he’s responsible for keeping clan members safe. They’re under constant threat.”

  “Something you know nothing about,” Garret says, “with the soft life you’ve lived.”

  Marcus stiffens, his body shaking with anger. My mind races through memories in a matter of seconds. Marcus’s back splitting open as wings erupted from his skin. The red, angry scars where smooth skin should have been. Marcus’s pained expression as he told me about his ten-year-old self sitting alone in the middle of mass at St. Pat’s, knowing deep down that his dad was never coming back.

  Soft life?

  Heat blazes up and down my arms, raging its way to my palms. No. No. No. Not now, please not now! “Get down!” I scream.

  Garret lunges across the room with lightening speed and throws himself over Camille. Fireballs hurl from my hands in opposite directions. One blasts against the huge TV, sending it crashing to the floor in pieces. Sparks and smoke fly in all directions. The other fireball blasts into the kitchen. Takeout containers explode, shooting Thai food in every direction.

  “Garret, no!” Camille screams.

  Garret bows deep before us, his eyes fixed on me. A low growl erupts from his throat. The wet tear of flesh fills the room. I stumble and slam into the refrigerator behind me as wings, black and veined, blast from Garret’s back.

  “Oh my God.” I reach for Marcus’s hand.

  Garret rises to his full height, dwarfing the room. The leathery appendages twitch and expand until they touch the opposite walls of the room. Dishes crash to the floor.

  “No!” Marcus yells. He thrusts me behind him with one hand while his other extends toward Garret. My lungs seize at the sight of the massive creature advancing toward us. His eyes glitter like a wolf approaching bloodied prey.

  “Once you’ve been with the clan a while, you’ll look back on this and understand why I had to do it.” Garret gnashes his teeth.

  “Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Marcus warns. He hunches and grunts as his shirt flies off his body in shreds, buttons pinging from the fabric and flying off. The scars along his back break open, emitting a wet, ripping sound, like a newborn fighting to be free. I’m flung backward by the power of his wings as they slam into me.

  Marcus roars as he charges Garret. The two collide, and I flinch at the sound of their violent tackle. Fists fly and claws swipe through the air. Wait…claws? Marcus’s father has claws? Garret leans toward Marcus, his lips drawn back as he’s about to sink sharp, pointy teeth into his son’s shoulder.

  I run toward them, about to plunge my fingers into Garret’s eyes.

  Camille throws herself between Garret and Marcus, the weight of her body sending me to the floor. “Garret! Stop!” She clutches Garret by the shoulders. She cranes her neck, a desperate look in her eyes. “Marcus, get her out of here. Now.”

  Marcus’s wings retract and collapse against his back, very much like the swans I’ve seen at the zoo. His wings wiggle and slide into the slits in his skin, as if his wings are separate living things returning home.

  My mouth falls open in amazement, but snaps shut as Marcus, shirtless, grabs my hand and yanks me toward the door.

  “Tell me something,” Garret calls after us.

  Marcus pauses. I want to turn around, curious to see if Garret put his wings away, but I mimic Marcus, who stares stonily at the door.

  “Who’s her father?”

  Marcus responds with silence.

  “Marcus…” Camille’s voice sounds haggard. “It’s important. Who is he?”

  Once you’ve been with the clan a while, you’ll look back on this and understand why I had to do this. Garret was going to kill me.

  I glance at the slash marks running across Marcus’s chest, recalling Garret about to sink his teeth into his son’s shoulder. Despicable for someone who calls himself a protector.

  I turn to face them. “Jude Morgan is my father.”

  Camille’s eyes bulge. “No!”

  Marcus whips around, searching Camille’s face. “What is it?”

  Garret smacks his lips. The fangs are gone. “Well, my dear boy, Jude Morgan is the devil I’ve been sent here to kill.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Unbelievable,” Marcus chokes as his eyes burn into Camille’s. “You told me you came here to be a part of my life. You lied.”

  Camille stands frozen. “It wasn’t a lie.”

  “My dad died at the same time you were given a mission to kill a demon in Chicago? I’m not buying it.”

  Garret looks at us like we’re insane. “Not any demon. Do you have any idea who Jude Morgan is?” He shakes his head and flashes a look of confusion at Camille. “Besides, Skip died almost a year ago. What does he have to do with this?”

  Marcus exhales sharply, his icy gaze fixes on his mother. Camille clutches her stomach and winces. Garret unknowingly ratted her out.

  “So many lies…” Marcus mutters. He flings open the door.

  Garret’s voice sounds rough like gravel in the otherwise silent room. “I need to know if your loyalty lies with me, boy.”

  “My loyalty lies with Lucy,” Marcus calls over his shoulder as he pulls me by the hand down the hall.

  Once in the elevator, Marcus hits the button for the first floor. The door doesn’t close fast enough, and he punches the panel of buttons over and over. The little plastic globes crumble to the floor.

  “Stop!” I lunge forward, take his clenched fist, knuckles bloodied, in both of mine.

  Marcus’s breaths come out in raspy bursts. His wild eyes meet mine.

  “It’s not worth hurting yourself,” I tell him. “Not for them.”

  Marcus pulls his hand from mine and slumps against the wall of the elevator.

  What kind of father—a protector no less—attacks his own son? I saw Camille’s face that day in Marcus’s apartment. She came to Chicago to take Marcus away. I didn’t get that sense from Garret tonight. He’s here for one purpose, and that’s to destroy Jude.

  I wait for the relief to flood my insides. I can finally be rid of Jude. My uncles will be safe. So will Dylan, Ethan, and Brandi. Marcus, too. But do I really want Jude to be killed? Relief doesn’t come.

  The doors open, and Marcus takes my hand and leads me out of the building to the car. As he peels away from the curb, I clutch the door handle and center console. I don’t say a word.

  Five minutes later, we pull in front of Old St. Pat’s Cathedral. Marcus turns to me, his face in shadow. “I need to be here…for a little while.”

  I hear the pain in his voice and wish more than anything I could take it away.

  “Then I need to be here with you.”

  He leans across me, opens the glove box, and retrieves a set of keys. “Let’s go.”

  Marcus unlocks the heavy wooden door of the church, and I wonder if we’ll get in trouble for being her
e. Then I remember Marcus telling me how he used to spend a lot of nights here alone before I moved to Chicago. This is where he practiced guitar for hours until it was time for him to return home and spend his evenings on the three-flat roof.

  Once inside, we’re met with a powerful silence. A streetlight illuminates the stained glass just enough to make out the Faith, Hope and Charity windows. While Old St. Pat’s wasn’t Gram’s church, she’d been here several times and loved them.

  The church is huge, and I crane my neck to take in the ceilings. Since I can’t see them in the darkness, I imagine they go on forever.

  An image flashes through my thoughts. Garret about to sink his teeth into Marcus’s shoulder and the claw marks on Marcus’s chest.

  I turn back to Marcus. “What’re you going to do now?”

  “What? Now that I’ve been played by my mother?”

  My heart clenches at the pain in his voice. “She hasn’t gotten you to do anything yet.”

  I reach for his arm.

  He pulls away. “She called me every day…wanted to meet with me,” he whispers roughly. “And she told me how much she loved me, what a terrible mistake she made leaving. She…” He clears his throat then continues. “And all this time she was only doing Garret’s bidding, trying to bring me into the fold…to what? Help him kill Jude?”

  I fold my arms over my chest, unsure how to help and scared by his anger.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Marcus spins on his heel and walks away. It’s pretty clear he doesn’t want me to follow. I pull my hair over my shoulder, winding it through my fingers as I debate what to do. By the time I decide to follow him, I realize there’s no way for me to find him in the dark church.

  I jump at the sound of a loud creak off to my right. I peer into the darkness, wondering if Father Bill is here somewhere. Then again, this is an old building. It’s bound to make lots of noises.

  Or maybe it’s Garret coming to finish me off.

  A chill passes over my skin, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Marcus is going to come right back, isn’t he? I hug myself tightly as I listen for the sound of his footsteps. I could call out to him, but don’t want to draw attention to myself if there’s someone else here.

  That’s when I hear it. Marcus and his guitar. I try to pinpoint where the sound is coming from, but it’s impossible. The massive room fills with the sound of Marcus’s raging chords.

  I fumble through the dark, my arms reaching out ahead of me until I reach the back row of pews. I slide onto the hard wooden bench and listen. The only time I’ve heard Marcus play was after he had recovered from saving me the night of homecoming. After our weeks apart, I found him in the three-flat garage strumming his guitar, his soulful voice ripping my insides apart. Tonight’s songs are different. Marcus is taking his anger out on his guitar.

  Tears spill onto my cheeks, and I wipe them away, feeling hypocritical. Isn’t this what I wanted? I thought Camille was here to make amends and take Marcus from me. As it turns out, she and Garret do want him, but not for a family reunion. They—or maybe just Garret—want his help to kill Jude.

  I frown into the darkness. Marcus’s father wants to kill my father. I don’t like Jude, and I’ve had nothing but trouble since he came into my life, but that doesn’t mean I want him to die.

  I grab hold of my hair again and twist it around my fingers. Jude fought hard to save me the night of homecoming. Of course, the whole mess was his fault to begin with when he conspired with Seamus’s daughter to kidnap my boyfriend from the dance, but then Seamus showed up at Jude’s house to kill me. Seamus got away that night. He’s still out there. I’m learning to use my demon skills, but I’m not powerful by any stretch. If Garret kills Jude, then who’s going to help me kill Seamus when he shows up the next time?

  The music changes. It’s less bitter. My fingers release my hair and fall onto my lap as the gentle strumming fills the space. Goose bumps break out along my skin when I hear Marcus’s rich voice. The lyrics are no less angry. They ring with accusation as they describe an act of abandonment, betrayal. This has nothing to do with Garret. It’s about his mother.

  I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them. I rest my head against the back of the pew.

  …dating a mundane is bad enough, but a demon?

  It doesn’t make sense that gargoyles consider humans inferior. Protectors—gargoyles—help humans. Besides, Camille is human. Why would she look down on her own kind? Has Garret brainwashed her into thinking she’s one of the protectors?

  But I’m worse than human in their eyes. I’m half-demon, unworthy of their son.

  Are Garret and Camille going to come between Marcus and me? I don’t think Marcus is in a hurry to see them again, but based on how persistent Jude is with inserting himself in my life, I suspect they’re not going to give up on their son. It may not be love motivating Garret and Camille, but they’re determined to be a part of Marcus’s life, at least until they achieve what they came for.

  I sigh and lie down on the pew. I try to clear my mind of Marcus’s parents as I focus on the chords of his guitar, the sound of his voice.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but I jolt awake as a hand squeezes my shoulder.

  “Lucy, we should go. I need to get you home.”

  Marcus sounds better than he did when we arrived. I know he’s not fine, but the music helped to get rid of a lot of his anger. For now.

  Once in the car, my head clears of sleep. I study his profile. “So…what are we going to do?”

  He glances at me briefly, his expression resolved. “I won’t help them kill Jude.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. I needed to hear him say it. I knew he wasn’t going to join Garret and Camille, but I also know how much he despises Jude.

  “I’m tempted to tell Jude about their plan, but I know that’s not the right answer. I texted Aiden from St. Pat’s. He, Henry, and Persephone are waiting for us. We need to tell them about Garret’s plan.”

  “Let me check in with my uncles, then I’ll meet you at Persephone’s.”

  Marcus nods. He glances at me, his stern expression visible in the glow of passing headlights. “I’ll never be a fan of Jude’s, you know that.”

  “I know.”

  “Garret’s right. Demons are the natural enemy of protectors. That was never explained to me, but I knew it by instinct.” Marcus weaves his fingers through mine. “But I also know Jude didn’t kill Vera. And he’s training you to defend yourself against Seamus. If Jude’s really going to honor our truce—allow us to be together without any more attempts to take me out—then I’ll stick with my end of it. I won’t come between the two of you. And I’m not going to let Garret kill him.”

  But is Marcus any match for Garret with his huge size, sharp teeth, and dagger-like claws? I wonder the damage the older protector could do in a serious fight. I shudder and slouch against my seat, feeling very afraid for Marcus.

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time I get to Persephone’s apartment, everyone is waiting. Persephone serves tea to Henry on the green and yellow couch. Marcus paces by the window, while Aiden talks to him in a low voice.

  “Can we talk Garret out of this?” Persephone asks.

  Marcus turns and nearly knocks a sprouting glass off the window ledge. He glances at the dozen similar glasses along the sill and shakes his head. “Not a chance.” He looks at the door as if eager to escape.

  “You should’ve seen him. His eyes full of disgust as he figured out who—what—I was. Then when he attacked Marcus…” A shiver races down my spine.

  Persephone plants her hands on her hips. Her expression twists with anger. “I’ve never heard of a protector doing such a thing!”

  “That’s the thing; he didn’t look like a protector,” I tell them. “He had claws and fangs; things Marcus doesn’t have.”

  Persephone blinks several times. “Fangs? Claws?”

  Aiden glowers at Marcus. Did
n’t Marcus tell them any of this before I arrived?

  Marcus nods. “And he grew several inches when he morphed.”

  “How is that possible?” Henry’s gaze locks on Aiden.

  What would Aiden know about a protector? He’s a demon. A pretty useless one as far as I’ve seen.

  “I hate to ask this of you, Marcus, but is there any chance you could speak with your mother alone? See if there’s any way to get Garret to back off and perhaps find out what he’s done to become this new version of protector?” Henry asks.

  From his position near the window, Aiden narrows his eyes at Henry.

  Marcus doesn’t hesitate. “I’m not part of the clan, so I have no interest in anything having to do with them. They can all go to hell as far as I’m concerned.” He storms out, slamming the door behind him. It takes superhuman effort not to follow him. One of us needs to be here.

  Aiden grimaces. “You shouldn’t have suggested that.”

  Henry pulls his glasses off and fixes Aiden with a hard glare. “Something big is brewing, and we need to get a handle on it before we have a catastrophe on our hands.”

  Persephone snaps her fingers, effectively interrupting the stare off between the two men. “We’ll figure out another way.” She turns her attention to me. “I told Henry about your training.”

  I flinch as car tires peel away from the curb outside. Clearing my throat, I nod at Henry. “Don’t bother asking me to get out of it. Jude will never go for it.”

  “I understand,” Henry says, his expression grave. “But I would guess that Garret has a team watching Jude’s house. He’ll see you training with Jude, and he’ll likely conclude you’re training to kill protectors.”

  My heart drops. “I’d never…”

  Concern flashes in Aiden’s eyes. I know it’s not meant for me. Maybe for Marcus if he loses me? Or Jude?

  “Do we have any idea when Garret plans to take action against Jude?” Aiden asks quietly.

  “If you saw his face, the way he talked. He hates Jude,” I tell them. “I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”