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

by Pauline Gruber

  I check that item off my list, and suddenly, I’m unsure how to end the call. Dylan’s one of my best friends. My throat constricts at the thought of losing him. I blink rapidly before the tears come.

  “No one knows you like I do, Dylan,” I whisper. “You’re an amazing person. Ethan and Brandi are really lucky to have you. I’m going to miss you.”

  I click end on my phone and flop back on my bed. I close my eyes and inhale—four counts in—and exhale—four counts out. I repeat this several times. It works to keep the crying fits away. The call to Marcus is going to be so much worse.

  After a few minutes, I climb off my bed and grab the glass of water from my desk. I down the whole thing, then grab my phone and hit contact number three.

  I’m not sure which scares me more, Marcus answering the phone or getting his voicemail. I get his voicemail.

  “Marcus, it’s Lucy again.”

  I explain how I told Dylan to stay away from me. “I’m not taking him up on his offer to carpool to school, either, although Katie’s upset about that.”

  Trying to insert something light into the message sounds dumb. I go for honesty.

  “I’m sorry, Marcus. I have no excuse for what I did. I’m begging you to forgive me. Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking anyway…because I can’t imagine my life without you. It wasn’t much before I met you. Even though it’s a big hot mess right now, having you in it makes it special. For the first time since Gram died, I look forward to my future…because you’re in it.” Even though that future is iffy.

  I press end and climb under the covers. Sliding my hand under my pillow, I curl my fingers around a delicate feather. Marcus’s feather. The one I’ve kept in the medicine cabinet for months. Over the past few days, I’ve needed a piece of him near me. But it won’t mean much if Garret kills Jude. I need to fix things with Marcus before it’s too late.

  * * * *

  A vibrating noise pulls me from sleep. My hand flops around my bedside table until it connects with my phone. With one squinty eye, I focus on the readout and bolt upright.

  “Marcus?”

  “You forgot to tell me you love me.” His voice sounds sad, far away.

  I stare off into the dark space of my bedroom, the cobwebs of sleep slipping away. “What?”

  “In your message. You forgot to tell me you love me.”

  I squeeze my eyes tight as I try to recall the message I left on his phone. “How’s that possible? I feel like I’m always saying it.” I stop myself. “I love you, Marcus. More than anyone can love another person.”

  “That’s a lot,” he says softly.

  “I know.”

  “I love you, too.”

  My throat threatens to close as my vision blurs. “I wasn’t so sure anymore.”

  “You hurt me, Lucy.”

  My heart constricts painfully in my chest. The sleepy fuzz is replaced by shame. “Will you ever forgive me?”

  “Eventually.”

  What did I expect?

  “Aiden explained something to me. You’ll find it interesting.”

  “I don’t know about that.” My cheeks flush hot. I can’t believe Marcus told Aiden.

  Marcus sighs. “Just listen. He said when demons reach puberty—emanation—their hormones drive them to mate. It’s pretty intense and, as Aiden put it, they sort of lose all self-control. They turn into horny beasts.”

  Emanation? “So…what are you saying?”

  “That you’re a horny beast, but that it’s not entirely your fault. It’s partially your fault, so you should feel really, really bad…horrible actually, but…”

  I almost laugh, but stop myself. “Demon puberty…emanation…is a real thing?”

  “It is, but you’re not allowed to kiss Dylan again.”

  “You’re the only person I want to kiss. Trust me.”

  “Can you please tell me it didn’t go past that?” I hear the strain in his voice. “Aiden made it sound like it’s kind of impossible to stop once it starts.”

  “I swear that’s all that happened,” I say quickly.

  “And his hands never…?”

  “Never.”

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  “Okay.” He sighs. “Then I don’t have to kill him.”

  I shudder. “Please…no killing.”

  “I’m going to let you go. I don’t want to, but we’ve got school tomorrow. I haven’t slept in a while.”

  I clutch the phone with both hands. “How long is a while?”

  “A few days.”

  “Marcus!” I cry out in alarm. I slap my hand over my mouth, hoping I didn’t wake up my uncles.

  Marcus hasn’t taken his stone form at night on the roof for days? According to Persephone, the nightly ritual is required. Otherwise, his abilities as a protector and a healer suffer. He suffers.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” he says. “’Night Lucy.”

  “Marcus…”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  All of this is my fault. “Goodnight and…I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What do you mean Dylan’s not coming?” Jude roars.

  “I told him not to.” How’s he going to punish me today? Tase me? Throw more fireballs at me? I try to look on the bright side—something I’m able to do now that Marcus is speaking to me again—at least Jude and I are both alive. I’m hoping the protection spell is hard at work.

  I clutch the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a pan covered with foil sitting on the stove. It smells like chipotle peppers, tortillas, and cheese. Enchiladas? My stomach growls.

  “That’s not your decision to make.” His tone is especially sharp on that last word. “Call him and tell him to get over here. Now.”

  “No.” I frown at him. “We can’t be here together. And I promised Marcus.”

  “What does the gargoyle have to do with this?” Jude’s eyes narrow into slits, and he storms from the room. I scurry after him to the front door. He wrenches it open.

  Marcus stands there, twitching and jerking, his expression murderous. “Leave her alone, Jude. From…now…on…she trains alone.”

  Is Marcus crazy? Jude gave our relationship his blessing after the whole homecoming fiasco, but he still despises Marcus.

  I jump between them and press my hand flat against Marcus’s chest. “I told you to go home. Pick me up later.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Jude spits through clenched teeth.

  “Was it…your intention for this to…happen?” Marcus grunts, perspiration streaming down his face.

  “Marcus, please.”

  It’s torture seeing him like this. He won’t be able to control it much longer. Why didn’t he listen to me just this once and leave after he dropped me off? The teams of landscapers at work in Jude’s yard don’t need to see Marcus sprout wings.

  Jude’s gaze slides to me, baffled. “Intention? What’s he talking about?”

  Marcus laughs bitterly. “Don’t…act so…innocent.” He turns to me, grabs my hand. “Let’s go.”

  Jude smoothly yanks me from Marcus’s grasp and shoves me behind him. “She’s not going anywhere. It’s you who needs to leave.”

  “Marcus…” I try to wiggle my way around Jude. “Please don’t do this. Come back and pick me up later. Five o’clock. Okay?”

  Before Marcus can respond, Jude slams the door in his face.

  “What’d you do that for?” I yell.

  “Enough of this nonsense. We will sit down and have lunch, like a proper family. Then we’ll get to work on your training.” The words come out sharp as glass. His grip on my arm is too tight. I’ll have a bruise later. “No more distractions.”

  He drags me toward the kitchen. I look over my shoulder, fearing Marcus still stands on the other side of the door.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” I try to yank my arm free.

  An explosion booms t
hrough the air. I dive to the floor. Jude whirls around in time to see the remnants of his front door land on the floor in pieces. The steel hinges clank like bullets into the wall across the room.

  Jude growls, eyes cold and glittery, lips drawn back to expose his teeth. He’s ready to lunge. Marcus stalks across the threshold. I gasp at the sight of his naked torso, the muscles of his chest and arms ripped and taut, the cords of his neck standing out. All of that pales in comparison to the gray and white wings twitching and eager to expand. Is his shirt in shreds on the front porch? So much for discretion.

  Jude and Marcus take a predatory step toward each other.

  Jude raises his hand. A fireball balances is his palm. “It’s time for you to go, gargoyle. Permanently.”

  I scramble to my feet and lunge between them.

  “Stop it already. This is stupid.”

  “Get out of the way, Lucy,” Marcus snarls.

  Jude’s eyes lock on Marcus. “Lay one finger on my daughter, and you’re dead.”

  Marcus glowers. “If you care about her, then you wouldn’t force her to mate with Dylan against her wishes.”

  Jude cocks his head; the fireball in his hand fizzles out. “Dylan is trying to mate with my daughter?”

  “Like you didn’t orchestrate it,” Marcus mutters with disgust.

  Jude’s eyes fix on me like laser beams. “Did Dylan force himself on you?”

  I hang my head. “Not exactly, but…things are happening that I don’t want to happen.”

  “Aiden explained emanation to me. Don’t act like you don’t know,” Marcus growls at Jude.

  How many times will I have to live through the humiliation of my actions with Dylan? I peek up at Marcus, expecting to see judgment on his face. There’s only anger, and it’s directed at Jude.

  “You’re sixteen?” Jude asks.

  I nod.

  “Is this the age most human girls…copulate?” His face twists with distaste at the word.

  “Some, but not most,” Marcus glowers. “And Lucy will not be copulating with Dylan.”

  I rise to my full height. “I can speak for myself.”

  Jude’s lips curl into a sneer. “Have you and the winged one…?”

  My cheeks burn hot. I wish the floor would split open and swallow me whole. “Uh…no,” I whisper, red-faced. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Marcus takes a step toward Jude. “If Dylan tries anything with her again, I’ll rip him to pieces.”

  Based on the fury in his eyes, I believe him.

  Jude bares his teeth in a cruel smile. “I appreciate that you’ll battle on behalf of my daughter’s virtue, but you are outmatched. Dylan’s strength has multiplied tenfold. You wouldn’t stand a chance against him, gargoyle.”

  I shake my head in frustration. “His name is Marcus. Why is that so hard for you to—”

  “Lucy, let’s go,” Marcus snaps.

  “Lucy made a deal. She stays.”

  “The deal’s off, demon.” Marcus grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door.

  * * * *

  “Jude’s right. I can’t bail on my end of the deal,” I say once we’re in the car.

  “Well, you are.” Marcus reaches over me, pulls the seatbelt around my body, and clicks it into place. His wings are gone. I catch a glimpse of the angry red scars running the length of his back. His shirt, what’s left of it, is tossed on the backseat.

  “Marcus, you don’t understand. He’ll go after—”

  “Dylan?” Marcus’s dark gaze meets mine. His nostrils flare. “Don’t even go there.”

  My own temper flares. “It’s not just Dylan. What about my uncles? I have to keep up my end of the deal. I have to keep training with Jude. He’s behaving. We need to keep it that way.”

  Marcus grips the steering wheel so tightly all the blood leaves his fingers. “You’re not training with Dylan.”

  “I understand that, but you can’t chaperone me, either. It’s torture for you to be near Jude.”

  “That’s my problem.”

  If only I could blink and fast forward through time, I would have my license and could drive myself to Jude’s. Then again, if the protection spell doesn’t work, fast forwarding would bring me closer to death. Since he hasn’t been able to recruit Marcus, Garret is no doubt working on a new plan to kill Jude.

  “Did Aiden happen to mention how long emanation is supposed to last?” I ask, eager to change the subject from Jude.

  Marcus’s jaw clenches and unclenches. “Until mating has occurred.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dylan Douglas

  I pull the door closed behind me as I follow Jude into the backyard. It never fails to amaze me that his yard is bigger than the football field at St. Aquinas. It seems a waste. I think of Ethan and Brandi stuck in the condo downtown. They’d love to have a yard like this.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I shield my eyes against the blaring sunshine and spot Aiden next to the tree Lucy torched.

  My entire body tenses. Jude called me, said I need to make up my missed training session from yesterday. Now Aiden’s here too? I was hoping this would be quick. I have a paper due tomorrow.

  I shrug, keeping my cool.

  “He’s here at my request,” Jude says.

  Aiden studies me, his brows drawn low, then he turns to Jude.

  Jude stops dead center between Aiden and me. I can’t read a thing from his expression. What’s he up to?

  “Dylan, do you feel like you’re learning a lot in your sessions with Aiden? Are you becoming a better fighter?”

  “I’ve learned a lot.”

  My gaze moves past Jude to Aiden. His expression twitches.

  “But not enough,” Jude says. It’s not a question.

  I shrug again. I really thought Aiden would be a tougher opponent, but I keep that to myself. There’s something going on here I don’t understand. Best to keep quiet.

  “Don’t do this…” Aiden’s dark eyes bore into Jude.

  “What if I told you Aiden’s been holding back?”

  I lean in as if I heard Jude wrong. Aiden gave it his all. He said so.

  I jerk my head toward Aiden. “Is that true?”

  It’s all over his face. He thinks I’m weak.

  My pulse speeds up. My muscles quiver.

  “Dylan, do you want to become a great fighter? A warrior?” Jude asks.

  “I am a great fighter.” I grind the words out. “I proved that with your mutts last weekend.”

  Jude smirks. “Then why is Aiden babying you?”

  Aiden glare shifts from Jude to me. “I was taking it easy on you until—”

  I don’t hear anything else. He thinks I’m inferior to him.

  Adrenaline floods my veins. Black dots dance across my vision, then clear. “You better figure out a way to take me out.” I squat a few inches, anchoring my body, then throw the first punch.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lucy Walker

  “So we heard you got a new car,” Suzie announces at lunch as she plunks her tray of chicken nuggets and French fries onto the table and sits down across from me. “This is huge news.”

  “Yeah.” I shrug and focus on my lunch. “Kind of weird, since I don’t even have my license yet.” My cheeks burn as Ella, Caroline, Suzie, and Cloe stare at me.

  Katie is unusually quiet as she focuses on her lunch, chewing methodically and avoiding eye contact. It’s not hard to guess who spilled the beans.

  “You’re in driver’s ed. You’ll have your license soon enough,” Cloe says.

  “And I wouldn’t call a fully loaded Lexus stupid,” Caroline says. “Let me be the first to call shotgun when we all go out together. I love new car smell.”

  “No way!” Katie says. As my best friend, she should be entitled to permanent shotgun. Her protest falls away when she sees my look of annoyance.

  “Who’s the gift from?” Ella asks.

  The table falls sile
nt. This is exactly why I never brought it up. I’m not ready for the world to know about Jude. It’s bad enough he showed up at my uncles’ apartment. Now they’re vulnerable. He can get to them anytime.

  Jude was my secret and not Katie’s to tell. Did she also tell them about Dylan and me? That Marcus and I had a huge fight?

  “Ouch!” Katie says as I kick her under the table.

  The girls glance at Katie for only a second, then return their attention to me.

  “It’s a long story.” I squirm.

  “We’ve got the whole lunch hour.” Ella smiles sweetly.

  I raise my gaze from the table and focus on Suzie and Cloe. They truly are my friends. They won’t judge. “It’s a gift from my father,” I say.

  “I knew it.” Ella smacks the table with the flat of her hand.

  I bounce on my seat, surprised. “Knew what?”

  “That the whole poor southern hillbilly thing was a lie. A ploy to gain sympathy,” Ella scoffs. “It worked on Marcus and Dylan, so I guess you pulled it off.”

  Anger boils inside of me. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of getting under my skin. I just roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Speaking of Dylan,” Suzie says as her gaze skims the lunchroom. “Did any of you see him today?”

  I’ve been doing my best to not see Dylan.

  Ella and Caroline look at each other, then shake their heads.

  “No, why?” Caroline says.

  “Don’t tell me he’s back with Rachel the skank or I’m going to puke,” Ella says.

  Suzie’s eyes are as big as saucers, her voice barely loud enough for us to hear. We all lean in close. “Someone did a number on him. Beat his face to a pulp. Bruises, stitches. It’s horrible.”

  A shiver races down my spine. Please God, tell me Marcus didn’t do this to him. My boyfriend—a protector—would never do something so awful.