I glance past her, across the length of the lawn, and notice no one is left standing. The yard is littered with lifeless bodies.
Selima shoves past me. “Marcus, let me take over.”
Marcus pulls his wrist from Dylan’s mouth. Like a hungry infant, Dylan’s lips continue to suck at the air.
Selima tears at her wrist and presses it against Dylan’s demanding lips. “I never saw Garret, but his aura was all over inside the house,” she says.
“After the battle in the office, he took off.”
We all look up at Max, whose flaming red hair is cut short and spiky. He’s the shorter of the two demons.
“It’s a good thing, too, because he would’ve freaked seeing his warriors bouncing off of Jude like he was surrounded by some kind of force field.” He grins.
“Yes, I found that curious,” Jude says.
I peek up at him to find him staring at me intently. Does he know Persephone and I put a protection spell on him?
“Lucy, that’s Max, Aiden’s friend,” Marcus says, his chin lowered as he inspects his chest wound.
Max throws his head back and laughs. A sound I find completely inappropriate given Dylan’s condition. “I would use the word friend loosely where Aiden is concerned.”
Selima and I both take in the giant, bald demon towering over Max. He appears to be almost seven feet tall and broader than a truck.
“This is Warrick.” Max jerks his thumb toward his sidekick.
“I’m going to search the house. Make sure no one’s lurking,” Warrick says in a gravelly low voice.
Neither demon seems shocked over the healing going on. Have they seen this before? Or maybe horrific and gross are normal for them?
“He’s stable,” Selima announces, pulling her wrist from Dylan’s mouth.
Jude presses his fingers to the unwounded side of Dylan’s neck for a moment. He murmurs something in Dylan’s ear, and Dylan stops sucking at the air. “His pulse is already improving. Thank you Marcus and…”
“Selima,” she says. “Marcus’s sister. Friend to Lucy.”
That’s to be determined.
Jude nods.
Dylan’s going to be okay. I no longer care what started our fight in the first place. Instead, I recall Dylan, the adoring older brother of Ethan and Brandi. His bravery on Jude’s roof the night of homecoming last year. Then there were all of his visits to my house after I nearly died, trying to act casual, but unable to hide his fear and worry.
I choke back a sob at the realization I almost lost him.
“We saw your office,” Selima says to Jude. “Is that where the protectors initially attacked?”
“That’s where I found them when I came home,” Jude says grimly. “I have the highest levels of security on this place. They breached it.” He checks Dylan’s pulse again. “They were on my computer.”
Persephone told me Jude is rich. Bill Gates kind of rich. What was it Selima said? That Garret steals the assets of those demons he slaughters? “Were they accessing information about your businesses? Your finances?”
“They attempted to, but it’s impossible to breach the security on those accounts,” Jude says. He tears his attention from Dylan’s face and focuses on me. “They copied my file on you.”
His accounts are guarded like Fort Knox, but information on me isn’t?
“What kind of information?” Marcus asks.
“Everything I’ve compiled since the day Lucy was born. The gargoyles forwarded it all to two email addresses, both of them untraceable.”
“But Garret met me,” I point out. “He knows what I look like. And Camille has been to my house and met my uncles. What more do they want to know?”
Realization dawns on Marcus’s face. “Your school.”
“Why would Garret care about that?”
Jude’s expression tightens. “After Seamus’s attacks, Persephone, Henry, and I put a protective spell on the three-flat. It renders certain supernaturals powerless.”
“But…” I say, panicked.
“It was a fair exchange and meant you’d be safe from Seamus and Garret,” Marcus says. “But your school is another story.”
“What do you mean?” My gaze lands on Dylan’s still body and Selima’s hand resting on his arm.
“Henry and Persephone put a shrouding spell on your school, similar to the one your grandmother had on your home in Tennessee. Supernaturals would never find you there.” There’s an edge to Jude’s voice. Gram hid me from him all those years, and he’s still not over it.
Marcus closes his eyes. “Garret now knows where you go to school.”
I jump to my feet as visions of crowded hallways flood my thoughts. “But St. Aquinas is a public place. Would Garret actually make a scene in front of the student body? He’s a protector. He wouldn’t hurt a bunch of helpless high school students, would he?”
“Anyone going to address the elephant in the room?” Max rocks back on his heels, his hands tucked in the pockets of his black jeans. “Garret and those assassins he deployed tonight are not normal protectors.” He displays his teeth and wiggles his fingers at Marcus and then Selima. “Do either of you develop fangs and claws once you morph? What’s the deal?”
We all turn to Selima. It takes her a moment to answer. “There are rumors that Garret and certain members of his army are supplementing.”
“So, it is true,” Jude says. He shakes his head and exhales, gestures so human, it’s easy to forget he’s a demon. “Grayson, the former head of the gargoyles, a man I respected, informed me of the rumors before he was killed,” he nods at Selima and Marcus, “that some of your kind were drinking demon blood.”
All to build an army of assassins.
Marcus catches me inspecting his chest wound. “It’ll be fine. It’s already healing, see?”
Sure enough, the gash is closed and no longer bleeding. Accelerated healing is a handy power to have.
“What about the mental torture earlier tonight at the party by Ronan and Flynn? What was that?” I ask. Just thinking about it gives me a headache and makes my molars hurt.
“Part of their new powers?” Marcus asks.
Selima sighs. “I don’t know.”
“Combining the best of both species. Clever. No doubt they’re stronger, faster, and we know about their bitey, scratchy fixations,” Max says, cracking his knuckles. “Where do I find them?”
“Lucy’s school,” Marcus says, his arms flexed at his sides. “The question is when?”
“My blood isn’t pure, so what does Garret want with me? Will he kill me just to hurt Jude?” I ask.
Selima gives a tight shake of her head. “You’re dating Marcus. It’s an embarrassment to Garret and to the clan. And he hates your father.”
Marcus jumps to his feet, and I notice the gashes on his chest are only welts at this point. “I don’t care what Garret thinks and as far as the clan—”
Selima holds her hands up in surrender. “It’s not my opinion.”
Marcus glances at Dylan’s still form.
“Go,” Jude says. “Once I know he’s out of danger, I’ll meet you at St. Aquinas.”
“I’ll stay, too,” Selima says. “Just in case.”
“I’m going with you. I want another chance at Franken-Garret,” Max announces, a smile spreading across his face. It’s the smile of a killer.
Chapter Forty-Four
“You’re not going to find him,” Max says from the backseat of the car.
I glance at Marcus. His curious expression mirrors my own.
“Dear old dad is political,” Max says. “He won’t be hanging around Lucy’s school tonight.”
I crane my neck to study Max. He doesn’t look like much—short, compact—but I have a feeling if provoked, his strike would be fast and deadly.
“Do you think he’s taken off to regroup?” Marcus asks, eyeing Max in the rearview mirror.
Max nods. “Garret’s not particularly bright, but he’s savvy enough
to surround himself with people who are. He wouldn’t make a move without strategizing with his team.”
“Why did you come with us?” I ask. I would much prefer to be alone with Marcus right now. I can’t shake the image of Marcus tearing his own flesh, applying it to Dylan’s wound then putting his wrist to Dylan’s mouth for him to drink. The same thing he did for me the night of homecoming. I want to know why he kept it a secret.
Max shrugs. “I know Jude. He’d make me dispose of the bodies. Besides, I want to see my good friend, Aiden.”
There’s no missing his sarcasm.
I turn back around and relax against my seat. Jude and Dylan are safe for now.
“We need to talk to Persephone and Henry. Fill them in,” I tell Marcus.
* * * *
“Max’s right. Garret’s not making hasty decisions. He’s consulting with others.” Henry takes the last seat at Persephone’s table. “When Grayson led the clan, he always thought of what was best for the clan, and he didn’t report to others. He was trusted and well loved by the protectors. The structure has changed. Garret’s a mouthpiece for a high-powered cabinet who doesn’t have the best interests of the clan as their priority.”
“How long have you known about Garret and his clan?” Marcus asks Max.
Max glances at Marcus for a moment then over at Aiden who is leaning against the counter. Max and Aiden are dressed similarly in short-sleeved black T-shirts and black pants. Like Aiden, Max’s black irises are a dead giveaway he’s a demon.
“Demons and protectors are natural enemies. We’ve always known about each other.”
“Then why don’t you know more about Garret’s circle?” Persephone asks.
Max leans forward. “Garret’s slippery. So are the others. They never stay in one place for long.”
“The protectors claim that’s a necessity because demons are slaughtering their kind,” Henry points out.
“Of course they do,” Max sneers, his fist curling on the table, “but it’s a bald-faced lie. Demons and protectors, while they weren’t friendly, they coexisted peacefully. Grayson and Jude put laws in place a long time ago. There were no attacks by either side during that time.” Max relaxes his fist, then intertwines his hands and bends his knuckles back in one swift movement; a series of snaps and cracks rings out. His gaze lands on Aiden. “But it all went to hell when Grayson was murdered.”
“You have a big mouth, Max,” Aiden grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.
Max aims an icy smile at Aiden. “I don’t subscribe to the theory that everything needs to be kept secret, buddy. Secrets are toxic. They’ll eat you from the inside out.”
Max and Aiden eyeball each other in some weird standoff kind of way. Whatever’s between them, neither one is going to spill.
“It’s our understanding a demon killed Grayson. Are you saying that’s not true?” Persephone asks.
Max looks at each of us in turn, a small smile playing on his lips. He leans back in his chair, rapping his knuckles on the table as he stares off at nothing. “When Garret took the throne, so to speak, rumors swirled about elections being fixed, demon thugs hired to lean on anyone speaking out against Garret. Then we hear rumors about protectors developing new powers. They’re stronger than ever. They’ve got fangs and claws, and they’re without a conscience.” He rests his elbows on the table, his biceps bulging. Max’s gaze locks on Aiden. “Grayson wasn’t killed by demons. And whoever makes up the Garret machine, those who stay behind the scenes, they’re powerful.”
“They no longer need demon thugs, not when their new soldiers are dosing on demon blood,” Marcus points out.
It’s not just the soldiers who are dosing, either. Marcus and I both witnessed Garret under the influence of demon blood. Fangs, razor sharp claws, and rage.
Max nods grimly. “Grayson never would’ve condoned such a thing.”
“What if Garret has all of you fooled into believing he’s got these shadowy figures backing him up?” Aiden asks. “What if it’s just him?”
Max shakes his head. “Someone else is doing all the heavy lifting.” He pushes up from his chair. “I’m going to head back to Jude’s. I’m guessing he’s got things cleaned up by now.”
“Can you call us when you get there, let us know how Dylan’s doing?” I ask as he heads out of the kitchen.
Max waves over his shoulder. “Sorry. Dylan’s not my problem.”
“You may want to remember who her father is,” Aiden points out.
Did Aiden just defend me?
“Fine.” Max sighs. “I’ll check on the faux demon and get back to you.”
“Thanks,” I say automatically.
Max glances at Aiden, his hand resting on the doorknob. “Remember what I said. Secrets will eat you from the inside out.”
Chapter Forty-Five
“Rise and shine, Luce. Rise and shine!”
Bernard opens the blinds in my bedroom.
I wince and pull my sheet over my face to block out both the sun and Bernard’s cheerful tone.
“Luggage is in the car,” Sheldon calls from the living room.
Luggage?
I bolt upright in my bed.
Bernard tosses a pair of jeans at me. “Come on, sleepy head. Your breakfast is on the table. You need to see us off.”
I rub sleep from my eyes. “Off where?”
Bernard exits my room, whistling some upbeat tune.
I throw on the jeans and a T-shirt then meet my uncles in the kitchen, where they’re stuffing an envelope with cash.
“This should cover anything you need,” Sheldon says as he tucks the money in the cookie jar.
I blink rapidly. Am I in the Twilight Zone?
“Where are you going?” I ask way too loud.
“Vacation, silly,” Bernard says, looking at Sheldon who nods. “We didn’t give consideration to your job, which you take seriously, and to your relatively new friendships with Katie and Dylan. Besides, with everything Marcus is going through, we imagine it would be difficult for him to have you away.”
I grimace at their placement of Dylan’s name before Marcus, but let it go. Did they tell me they booked their trip, and I forgot?
“Persephone and Henry came by yesterday. They told us how much Persephone relies on you. We didn’t realize that.” Sheldon’s voice is more relaxed than normal. Did they have mimosas this morning? A quick glance around the kitchen shows no sign of empty champagne flutes. “So, we’re giving you permission to stay home, while we go on vacation. We signed a temporary guardian form appointing Persephone in our absence. Katie’s mom and Henry witnessed the document. It was all very simple.”
“Simple,” I echo with a robotic nod. Too simple. “You’re sure about this?”
Sheldon tweaks my cheek, his eyes twinkling. “Only if you are, kiddo. If you decide you want to join us, we’ll go online and book you for the trip.”
I shake my head, donning my most solemn expression. “It’s like you said. I have the Douglas kids to take care of, and I need to help Persephone with a couple of projects. Then there’s Marcus, Katie, and Dylan.”
“It’s settled then.” Bernard gives me a wink. “It just took Persephone and Henry to help us realize we needed to treat you with a little more freedom. Respect your obligations.”
Persephone and Henry convinced them? Put a spell on them is more like it. Why didn’t Persephone talk to me first? Is there a consequence to using magic like this? I whack my palm against my forehead. The dandelion tea. Did it make Sheldon more susceptible to their spellcasting?
“Grab your medication,” Bernard tells Sheldon, steering him toward the living room. “I’ve got our flight and hotel confirmations.”
Sheldon taps the fridge with his index finger on his way out of the kitchen. “Our itinerary. You can reach us on our cell phones or at the hotel.”
I scan the sheet on the fridge. They decided on Costa Rica after all. I’ll have to hide this information once my uncles leave. I d
on’t need Garret or any of his team breaking in and finding out my uncles left town.
Could we have reached this point without manipulating their brains? Maybe. But if things go horribly wrong when we try to conjure Lucifer, at least my uncles will be far away and safe.
* * * *
Dylan picks me up an hour later. I fill him in on my uncles’ sudden trip.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “It’s good they’ll be out of the way when things blow up between the demons and the gargoyles.”
And Lucifer. Can’t forget him.
I clear my throat. “Gargoyles? You sound like Jude.”
Dylan’s expression darkens. “There’s no way I’m going to refer to a bunch of killers as protectors.”
The light hits the inch long scar on his throat. It’s the only outward evidence of Dylan’s near death experience. I can only imagine how freaked out he is on the inside. His ordeal last year was bad enough, but now this?
“I’m sorry, Dylan. I know you’re scared and…”
“Let it go. I’m going to work my butt off today and every day until this so-called battle goes down.” Dylan’s eyes narrow as he stares out the windshield. “I’m going to slaughter those freaks.”
“Not every pro…gargoyle is bad. There’s Marcus and Selima.”
Dylan grunts. “You had the pleasure of watching me suck their blood. Good luck getting that out of your head any time soon.”
Silence falls between us, which gives me a chance to think about tonight. Will Lucifer show? Will he be willing to take Jude below ground? According to Aiden, Lucifer will look like a normal man, and not, as I suggested, like one of the creepy monsters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Will he be happy to see me?
Dylan glances my way for the umpteenth time. I force myself to stop picking my cuticles and instead flip on the radio.
Dylan reaches over and turns it off. “What’s going on?”
“Um…I’m in the mood for music?”
“You still think you can fool me? If something’s going down, tell me.”
I tuck my hands between my legs to keep from picking. “I’m just worried, you know? We’re outnumbered.”
The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series Page 25
