The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4)

by Taylor Longford

  "I suppose so," Valor stated quietly. "Then the gargoyle race apparently died out while we were trapped behind that wall. And our kind were forgotten while the harpy race took our name."

  I peeked up through my hair at Valor's grim face and quickly changed the subject. "So your father was a gargoyle and your mother was…"

  "Human," he answered with a distant sigh.

  "When a gargoyle marries a human, are all the children gargoyles?" I persisted, determined to get his mind off the topic of his lost heritage.

  "All the boys are. All the girls are human."

  That finally explained where gargoyles came from. "There are no female gargoyles?" I asked somewhat hesitantly. I remembered how he and Havoc hadn't wanted to talk about it earlier.

  "Nay," he said, and closed his eyes again. "Now go to sleep, lass."

  Nope. He still didn't want to talk about it. I scooted back on the bed and pulled the covers over my legs. I sat and watched him for a moment before I asked, "What happened to Dare?"

  "What do you mean?" he muttered as if he didn't really want to talk about it.

  "Why can't he fly anymore?" I asked softly.

  "I don't want to tell you," he answered after a long silence.

  "Why not?" I whispered.

  Valor opened his eyes and leaned forward in the chair, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched the floor. "If I tell you, it will make you cry. And I don't want to see you cry."

  "I won't cry," I insisted although I was half afraid of what he might tell me.

  Without moving his head, he lifted his gaze to my face and watched me from beneath the shadow of his lashes. "You think you're tough and strong, Kenz, but you're soft-hearted."

  "Is it…that bad?" I asked tentatively.

  "It's bad," he confirmed as his eyes clouded with sorrow.

  "Was it the harpy who captured him?" I asked, my throat tight. "Did she do something to his wings?"

  "Did Dare tell you about her?"

  "He told me a harpy caught him and kept him prisoner."

  After another long silence, he eventually said, "The harpy stripped his wings so he couldn't fly. So he couldn't escape from her."

  My heart pounded heavily and I lost all my breath. "She stripped his wings?"

  Valor nodded. "She tore the leather out from between his spines."

  "But…why?" I croaked. I was beginning to wish I hadn't been so nosy. I assumed the harpy had stolen Dare because he was beautiful. If that was true, why would she have vandalized him? "Why did the harpy capture him in the first place?"

  "She wanted his venom…and his rune."

  I shook my head in confusion. "I don't understand."

  "Harpies are closely related to gargoyles," Valor explained. "But unlike gargoyles, they have no barbs for fighting and no venom. They crave our venom more than anything on earth because they become more like us once it's in their bloodstream."

  "So the venom isn't poisonous to harpies?"

  "Nay. Once the venom is in their veins, the common stone they're made of changes to the fine-grained material that gargoyles are made of. Imagine a flying monster that's virtually indestructible."

  "Do they become beautiful, like you are?" I whispered.

  "Do you think I'm beautiful?" he asked as the color of his gaze warmed to soft blue.

  I rolled my eyes and sent him a wry look. "Duh."

  "Their appearance changes," he admitted. "But the harpies are only beautiful on the outside. Inside, they're just as horrible as any living thing can be. But the harpy didn't only want Dare's venom. She wanted his rune as well."

  Valor explained that his brother took a lot of risks when he was younger, and he didn't always stay close to the pack. He was on his way to meet up with a girl on the night he was captured, and he was in his living form when the harpy got him. The monster flew north to Scotland and chained him at the back of her aerie where the sun couldn't reach him. She wanted him to give her his rune so that she could have a permanent supply of venom. Evidently, when a gargoyle gives a female his rune, he's bound by instinct to stay with her and protect her. He'll never leave her. Even if he hates her.

  I was beginning to understand that this instinct business had a downside. "How does a gargoyle give a female his rune?"

  "He uses his barbs to mark his symbol on her upper arm, near her shoulder," Valor said, and pointed to the top of his arm.

  "How did Dare finally get away from her?"

  "She died," he answered in a flat tone.

  "How did she die?" I asked tremulously, and wondered if Dare had managed to kill her.

  "Old age," he muttered.

  My stomach churned in absolute horror. For a moment, I thought I was going to be sick.

  "They're evil old things," he growled as his fists balled into tight knots. "Right up to the end."

  Like I said before, I'm not much of a crier. Crying makes your face blotchy and red and does nothing for your appearance. This is especially true for a redhead like me. But I cried when Valor told me Dare's story. I couldn't hold it back. I covered my face with my hands and tears just poured out of me in a blotchy red torrent of despair.

  I felt a weight settle beside me on the mattress and realized Valor had joined me on the bed. He put his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. We sat on the bed while he stroked my hair and murmured soft words of comfort.

  "You couldn't rescue him?" I sobbed.

  He tightened his hold on me. "We couldn't find him. We hired every witch we could round up to scry for him, but none of them were powerful enough."

  I wept onto his shoulder for several minutes. Finally, he pulled my head away from the warmth of his hard frame. He smiled softly as he held my face and thumbed the tears from beneath my eyes.

  "I'm sorry," I blubbered. "I must look like a mess."

  "I think you look beautiful," he insisted, his voice a soft stroke of sound. He brushed his lips across my forehead before he pulled my temple against his cheek. His warm breath beat against my ear in an uneven rush that made me want to pull closer to him. And I was already as close as I could get.

  "But what happened to his hackles?" I sniffed as I remembered the deep scars that slashed across Dare's knuckles. I looked up into Valor's heavy-lidded gaze. "Did the harpy do that to him?"

  "No," he whispered in a way that made me think the worst was yet to come. "He did that to himself."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "The harpy's aerie was located on a ledge that cut into the sheer face of a cliff," Valor continued his brother's story. "Without his wings, Dare couldn't escape."

  Valor told me how the harpy had threatened to hurt someone Dare loved if he didn't share his venom with her. When he told her it was a long way back to York and the people he cared about, she said she'd find a child and bring her to the aerie. And make Dare watch while she tortured the little girl. Dare refused to let that happen. But he didn't want to give the harpy his rune and be bound to her forever. He didn't even want to give the harpy his venom, since that would make her almost impossible to kill and he was still hoping the pack might find him one day.

  "So he thrust his fists into the fire and crushed his hackles against its red hot coals." Valor's voice cracked on the last three words.

  When I saw what it cost Valor to tell the story about his brother, I wished I'd never asked.

  Some time after Dare had destroyed his barbs, the harpy removed his chains so he could tend the fire and prepare food and essentially be her slave. Since he couldn't fly, she didn't think he could escape from the aerie—not without falling to his death. She didn't notice that a narrow sliver of sunshine reached the ledge for a few minutes every morning one week in winter.

  Unchained, Dare was able to reach the sun at the edge of the cliff one cold morning. And before the harpy realized what he was doing, he stretched out on the cave's floor and turned to stone. With his back fused to the rock and his arms crossed over his chest, the harpy couldn't get a chain or rope around
him. He lay there for more than two years until the harpy died. Then he waited until the direct sunlight touched him again.

  "The harpy couldn't break him away from the stone?" I questioned.

  "Harpies aren't that strong." Valor answered. "Nothing's that strong."

  By the time Dare returned to his living form, he'd had two years to decide what to do next. Without hesitating, he stepped from the cliff face and turned to stone. After he hit the ground on the valley below, he waited for the sun to reach him again the next day before he changed back to his living form and walked two hundred miles home.

  "And when he got back to York, the ends of his hair were white," Valor said. "From all the stress of what he'd been through."

  "He…can't cut the ends of his hair off?"

  "The new ends turn white again in a few days," he explained.

  My emotions got the better of me. "You'd better tell me the best way to fight a harpy," I said shakily.

  "There aren't any harpies anymore," he pointed out gently.

  "Maybe," I said, my voice catching. "Maybe not."

  He slanted a look down at me and searched my face. "Don't let this harden your heart, Kenz."

  I wiped my eyes and shook my head. "I'm not contemplating revenge. I'm just thinking about survival, in case anything happens."

  "I won't let anything happen to you," he muttered fiercely.

  "Then tell me what to do if something happens to you or your family," I insisted.

  "If something happens to any of us, I don't want you involved," he growled. "A harpy could break your neck as easily as snapping a twig. I don't want you anywhere near one of those monsters."

  I stared at Valor and saw the determination in his eyes. But there was concern in his shadowed gaze, too. And despite his claim that harpies no longer existed, I could tell he was worried he might be wrong. At any rate, I could see there was no way he was going to tell me anything I could use against a harpy. It was clear I'd have to get the information from someone else. I was planning on Dare being that someone else and decided I'd to talk to him as soon as I got the chance.

  I hit the snooze button after my phone alarm woke me the next morning. The early morning sunlight brightened the corners of my room and my neighbor seemed like a very distant threat with Valor sitting a few feet away. As long as the gargoyles were near, I knew I'd never be afraid of David Blocker again.

  I bunched my sheets beneath my chin and watched Valor asleep on the other side of the room. Sprawled out in the upholstered chair, he looked pretty ohmygod hot—spectacular and breathtaking—like the ohmygod road that winds through the mountains from Idaho Springs to Central City. His long legs were stretched in front of the chair and his thick eyelashes fanned out on the high cut of his cheekbones while his dark hair spread beneath his head like a wash of intense midnight.

  As I gazed at his perfectly molded face, I thought about the hug we'd shared last night. I wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to me. In the end, I decided he was probably just trying to console me so I'd stop pouring tears all over his shoulder.

  My phone started beeping again, reminding me I had to get up and go to school. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed from the room so I wouldn't wake Valor or any of the other gargoyles in the house. I crept downstairs to the bathroom on the main level and stepped inside to take a shower. When I walked out of the bathroom, Dare was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, waiting for me.

  I rubbed a towel over my wet hair. "Have you been assigned to me for the day?" I asked with a defeated sigh. I might have known I couldn't sneak around without waking at least one of the gargoyles. Their hearing was just too good.

  Dare averted his eyes and rolled his shoulders. "No," he answered. "I just thought maybe…"

  "Maybe what?" I asked as I threw the towel over the back of a barstool and breezed past him to pour myself a bowl of cereal.

  "You mentioned that you might be able to take someone to school with you, and I thought…"

  He was so hesitant, I could see that my security wasn't the issue this time. For whatever reason, he just wanted to go to school with me. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea, since it would give me a chance to ask him about harpies. "Get rid of that knife hanging from your belt and have some cereal," I told him as I pointed my spoon at the box of corn flakes. "We have to get out of here in ten minutes."

  Dare grabbed a bowl and filled it. "You're sure it won't be a problem?"

  I gave him an appraising look. He looked more like a senior than a sophomore. Fortunately, Whitney's mom works in attendance. "I don't think it will be a problem."

  It was no trouble at all getting a school pass for Dare. The women in the attendance office were falling all over themselves trying to be helpful. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his coat and charmed everyone's socks off with his unusual accent and his extreme good looks.

  I watched as he signed the form they gave him and was surprised when he marked his rune with a few swift strokes. Nobody else seemed to notice. I suppose it didn't look much different than a short, scrawled signature.

  "Name?" Whitney's mom asked as she turned the paper around on the counter and gave it a quick glance.

  "Dare," he answered.

  "Last name?"

  As if he hadn't expected the question, Dare looked at me for help.

  I hadn't expected it either. "Greystone," I answered off the top of my head.

  "Dare Greystone," Mrs. Anders repeated. "Nice name."

  I almost said thank you and only stopped myself just in time.

  When we stepped into the hall, the ladies back in attendance were still talking about Dare's accent. I grinned up at him, grabbed his arm and dragged him off to my first class where he caused quite a sensation. In his long black trench coat, he pretty much looked like a rock star and all the girls stared at him with blatant interest.

  Unfortunately, the first class was Algebra and Dare was lost. But he did better the next period, which was history. We were discussing the Napoleonic wars and Dare had some strong opinions on the le petit caporal. Mrs. Bennett was pretty impressed with his knowledge. She probably got the impression that British schools were better than American ones. You wouldn't necessarily think so if you met some of my cousins.

  When the lunch bell rang, we joined Mim and Whitney at a picnic table behind the school. I'd hoped Dare would join in our conversation and show Mim he wasn't a complete jerk but he didn't say much. He sat with his forearms resting on his knees and tossed French fries at the ravens.

  The birds that hang around school are huge. They live pretty well on student leftovers. They took the fries and hid them under the bushes close to the wall then piled stones on top of them. Ravens aren't dumb. They were probably saving the food for the weekend when school was out. Either that or they were planning a big party.

  After lunch, I had an hour of band then P.E. was my last class of the day. Dare took off his coat and joined in the coed volleyball game. He did remarkably well for someone who'd never played before. The girls were all in raptures as they eyed the damp T-shirt that clung to his lean physique. The guys were less thrilled.

  He ignored everyone as thoroughly as he'd ignored Mim and Whitney at lunch.

  "Do you just not like my friends?" I asked Dare as we pulled out of the sophomore parking lot at the end of the day.

  "I like them fine," he answered as if he was surprised by my question.

  "Well, you don't act as if you like them."

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give that impression. I was distracted at lunch. School…wasn't exactly what I expected."

  It was my turn to be surprised. "What did you expect?"

  A slash of color burned along his cheekbones. "I didn't realize that everyone could already read and write."

  "Oh," I said as the meaning of his words sank in.

  "I was quite keen to go to school with you so that I could start learning."

  "You�
�can't read?"

  "No," he replied wistfully. "The alphabet has changed a lot in the last eight hundred years. I could read a little back in my time but there wasn't much to read. That was before the printing press and books."

  "Really?" I murmured. I should have realized the gargoyles wouldn't be able to read. But they were so familiar with my century that it was easy to forget they'd been in the dark for eight hundred years.

  "About two centuries ago, we had a large family living in our house. The father read Dickens aloud to his children. Great Expectations. Tale of Two Cities. A Christmas Carol. I was hoping to read them myself, one day."

  I couldn't help but feel sorry for Dare. I could tell he was discouraged about being so far behind in his education. And I could see he desperately wanted to learn. Most of all, I felt bad for accusing him of being unfriendly, especially when I realized he couldn't say all that much to Mim and Whitney since he had to keep his history a secret. "I'm sorry I suggested you didn't like my friends."

  "It wouldn't do me any good if I did like them," he sighed. He turned his head and looked out the side window.

  I cut a quick glance at him. "I can teach you to read."

  "It's not just that." He stared down at the deep scars that ripped across his knuckles. "What can I offer them compared to Victor and the others? Without wings, I'm no use to anybody, much less girls like Mim and Whitney. And the girls will be meeting the rest of the pack tomorrow night."

  I figured it was time to get tough with the moody gargoyle. "Here's a news flash, Dare. Mim and Whitney don't know any guys with wings. Not one. So they aren't going to miss your wings. In fact, they're gonna think it's totally bizarre if they ever find out you're supposed to have them!"

  His mouth curved downward into a masculine sulk and he turned his face toward the window again.

  I hit the brake and the Jeep fishtailed to a halt on the gravel road. Before the dust settled, I pulled the handbrake, got out of the car and walked around to the passenger-side door.

  "What?" he growled as I opened the door.

  I held up the car keys. "Learn to drive and you won't need to fly."