"But they're going to be rare," MacKenzie insisted, turning back toward the window again. "And you're suggesting that a rare harpy somehow crossed paths with a witch who had accessed her powers."
"It's not likely," Valor murmured.
An unhappy whine sounded in Hooligan's chest. The big dog turned toward the windows and barked sharply. It looked like he thought we should let the light in. His opinion didn't go ignored. Although MacKenzie tended to underestimate her dog's gift, we all knew that Hooligan's senses were better than hers…and ours.
"We'll get those blinds open just as soon as we know what's going on," Havoc assured the dog softly.
The landline rang in the kitchen and Valor helped MacKenzie climb the stairs to answer the phone. While they were gone, we quietly discussed what might have happened to Reason. I pointed out that he might have been falling and was forced to make the change to stone before he hit the ground. But I could see that Victor didn't like the idea. Probably because gargoyles seldom fall from the sky unless they're dead or dying. Or unless their wings are torn. And Victor was trying to avoid an explanation that involved a bad ending.
Just the same, we checked Reason's wings. The one that was open seemed to be intact, without any tears. The other was folded against his body and we couldn't tell if there was anything wrong with it. We were still standing around the sofa when MacKenzie came back with Valor and told us her stepfather had called to check on the shipment. "I told him the crate had arrived but it was damaged. I said there was nothing inside but a pile of crushed rock."
"Good work," Victor praised her quietly while the rest of us exchanged understanding looks. Now her stepfather wouldn't expect to find his statue when he returned from England. And by then, we hoped to have Rees back on his feet.
"Did your stepfather refund the buyer's money?" I asked. We knew he was short of funds; he'd sold the statue so he'd have the cash to ship home the last three gargoyles—Chaos, Courage and Force. Since we'd purposely sent the wrong gargoyle and it was our fault he was in this predicament, we were prepared to help him raise the money if necessary. We had our old coins we could sell. In addition, we knew of a few places back in the U.K. where some ancient treasure might be found.
"He used the down payment to ship the last three crates," she explained. "He doesn't have the money."
"Wasn't the buyer angry?" I asked.
"Probably," she answered with a wry smile. "But the step-Greg told him it was his standard restocking fee."
"That doesn't sound fair," I muttered, not entirely happy with this solution even though it worked in our favor.
MacKenzie shrugged. "Greg's dealings are seldom on the up-and-up. On the other hand, a few thousand dollars probably don't mean much to a millionaire."
Valor slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her into his side. "Maybe not," he agreed as his hand tightened on her hip.
"So what's the next step where Reason's concerned?" Victor asked, counting on MacKenzie for direction.
She pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. "The buyer claimed that the shipment arrived in this condition, so…"
"So?" Valor prompted her.
"I think we have to go back to the shipping company and ask more questions. See if they can tell us what happened to the shipment before it reached Texas."
Victor dropped into one of the wicker chairs and rubbed a hand over his mouth as tight lines of concern creased the corners of his eyes. We'd been dealing with the shipping company for several weeks, trying to locate the three missing members of our pack. By now, we knew how difficult it was to get any answers out of them.
"I'll give them a call right now," she offered. "Maybe we'll know something by tomorrow.
Amazingly, the shipping company got back to us right away this time. Early the next morning, they called and reported that the shipment had reached its destination…without incident. A Kaylee Hamilton had signed for the delivery.
"According to the shipping company, the crate arrived intact," MacKenzie told us after she hung up the phone and joined us in the dining room, taking a chair beside Valor. She'd kept a copy of the shipping label so she had the buyer's name and address as well as his phone number. "The buyer's name was Robert Hamilton," she mused. "So maybe Kaylee is his daughter."
"Why his daughter?" Defiance questioned as he used his knife to smear a thin layer of strawberry jam on a bagel. Frankly, the long, sharp blade looked like overkill for the job. "Why not his wife?"
Mackenzie took a bite of her own bagel then realized—a little late—that she had to chew and swallow before she could answer. "The name Kaylee sounds young to me. Modern."
"Couldn't a millionaire have a young wife?" Defiance persisted stubbornly.
"Maybe," she allowed but sounded doubtful. "Either way, I'm going to give her a call and ask her what the hell happened to Reason."
Abruptly, she got to her feet and stumped from the room. But when she dialed the telephone number in Texas, the woman who answered the phone told her that both Robert and Kaylee Hamilton were out of town. Evidently, Mr. Hamilton wouldn't be available for several weeks while "Miss Kaylee" wasn't expected until spring break.
Spring break. We'd listened to plenty of vintage American movies on the television while we were trapped between those walls in York, and we knew that spring break usually meant time off from college. That seemed to support MacKenzie's theory that Kaylee Hamilton was young.
MacKenzie asked if she could have their cell phone numbers but Hamilton's employee said she couldn't share that information. Discouraged, Mac left her number in the hopes that someone might call her back. But it seemed like we'd reached a dead end, at least for the time being. On the other hand, the sky was still overcast and we wouldn't be able to wake Reason before the sun came out, anyhow.
With nothing more important to do, I checked our emails and discovered that we'd sold a bow to a hunter in Wyoming. Normally, a sale would have been cause for celebration but nobody was in much of a mood for anything like that. Preparing shipments was Victor's job but I went ahead and packed the bow for him.
Later that afternoon, I was battling my way through Great Expectations while Victor kept Reason company in the family room. The others had gone down to Pine Grove to send off the bow. The refrigerator was empty and Havoc had told Mac if she didn't take him shopping, he'd be forced to eat his belt. So they were headed for the grocery store after they finished at the shipping office.
Valor drove. Everyone over sixteen has their license in this country so MacKenzie's mother had assumed Val could drive simply because he was old enough. And she was counting on him to chauffer MacKenzie around while she was in England. In actual fact, Mac had given Valor his first driving lessons while she was on crutches. I'd learned to drive two months earlier but when it came to driving, both Valor and I limited our outings to local destinations as much as possible.
Hooligan was down in the family room with Victor and Reason but padded upstairs just as I heard a car on the driveway. I knew it was Mim before she knocked on the door. Her aura is so strong, I bet I could sense her at a hundred yards. After she knocked, I stared at the door for several moments, not wanting to answer it. But in the end, I couldn't help myself. I left my book on the coffee table, pulled my hood over my head, and strode into the tiled entry.
I hesitated again inside the entry with my hand wrapped around the brass doorknob. Leaning my forehead against the solid wood-paneled door, I soaked up Mim's presence like a drug. Ever since I'd spent almost three years of my life trapped in the presence of pure, scorching evil, I've gravitated strongly to the opposite force. I can't get enough of it. But this was the girl who thought I was capable of hurting her friend. With that reminder to stiffen my attitude, I yanked the door open and startled Mim just as she was lifting her hand to knock again. I stared at her small, curled fist. "MacKenzie isn't home," I growled.
A blush crept into her cheeks and she stammered out a few words. It was all I could do not to col
lect her in my arms and soothe her, my naturally protective instincts warring with my injured pride.
"I'll, ah…just…How long will she be?" she asked, casting her eyes downward. Her long dark hair fell forward over the shoulders of her navy blue coat.
I wanted to lift her chin with my fist and stare into her violet eyes. Instead, I curled my hands into tight knots and anchored them at my sides. "Maybe another half hour. She and Valor ran down to town with Defiance and Havoc."
"Oh. Well." Her gaze skittered sideways. "Maybe I'll just walk over to the park and kill some time."
"Do you want to come inside and wait?" I asked in a tone that couldn't have sounded very inviting. If she came in, we'd have to make sure she stayed in the front of the house so she wouldn't see Reason.
When she shook her head in answer, I reached for my coat hanging by the door. "It's a nice day for a walk," I lied. It was damned cold—gray and overcast—with several inches of snow on the ground. But she was dressed warmly and I'd be okay with my trench coat over my hoodie.
"You don't have to come with me," she insisted swiftly.
Huh. As I narrowed my gaze on her face, it occurred to me that she probably wasn't any happier to be around me than I was to be around her—me being the sort of guy who would beat up her best friend, and all. "Whatever," I muttered as I dropped the coat back on the peg and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
She chewed on her bottom lip and averted her gaze again. "I'll come back when I see MacKenzie's car from the cliffs." She turned sharply and I watched as she headed around the side of the house. The idea that she didn't want to be near me made me bitter. But not so bitter that I didn't worry about her alone in the park next door.
"Hooligan," I called softly and waited for the wolfhound to reach my side. "Go with her," I murmured. I watched his slim gray form slip through the opening in the door and glide after her.
I went back to my book but couldn't settle. I kept glancing toward the east and listening, though I don't know what I expected to hear. Mim was out of the range of my normal better-than-human hearing. Anything less than Hooligan's bark or a very loud scream wouldn't reach me.
I didn't know why I felt so uneasy. As MacKenzie often pointed out, the four hundred acre park was pretty much deserted in the winter. Her creepy neighbor who used to live next door had put his house up for sale and moved to Alaska, so he wasn't a threat anymore. And bears or mountain lions were rare at any time of year. We certainly hadn't seen anything or anyone during our recent visits to the park, which were relatively common. The large, empty piece of land was a place where the pack could safely fly without being seen and the cliffs were a perfect place to take off from, so we were over there at least once a week. 'Course we hadn't been there since the last snow…
Too late, my fears crystallized. With so little sun over the last few days, the snow on the cliffs had probably hardened and the rocky ground would be slippery. But before I could act on my concerns, Mim's panicked cry sent a chill of dread spiking through my veins. The terrifying sound was followed by Hooligan's frantic bark. Leaving my book open on the coffee table, I vaulted over the back of the couch and raced for the garage. Victor hadn't heard Mim's cry for help. He was sprawled on the wicker chair in the family room with MacKenzie's iPod resting on his knee and the earbuds jammed in his ears.
"Victor," I shouted as I pelted into the mudroom. "Mim's in trouble!"
Chapter Four
I didn't wait for Victor. I tore through the open garage doors and sprinted toward the park. Hooli met me half way there, on his way back to us for help. He circled behind me and shot ahead again. I felt like the slowest damn thing on earth and could have killed for a fast pair of wings.
As I reached the rocks in the park and started up the last fifty slippery feet toward the cliffs, I heard the familiar sound of leather beating air and knew that Victor was passing me overhead. I was half-thankful and half-resentful that he would reach Mim before I did. "Hurry, Victor," I urged him silently. "Please hurry."
I crested the top of the rocks and slipped on a treacherous layer of ice hidden beneath a dusting of snow. Dancing like a mad puppet, I fought for my balance and almost ate it before getting a foothold and pushing on. My heart was in my throat as I searched the rocks. I couldn't see Mim. She was nowhere in sight. Hooligan teetered at the edge of the cliff, barking into the abyss. "Mim," I shouted, terrified we were too late and she'd fallen.
As I skidded toward the icy precipice, Victor rose slowly in front of me like some godly angel ascending the heavens. His dark, sleek wings stroked the air as he cradled Mim in his arms. For a moment, he hovered at the edge of the rocks then landed and put Mim carefully on her feet. But the frightened girl didn't let go of him right away; her fingers clutched at his arms.
I leaned over and braced my hands above my knees while trying to catch my breath. Hooligan joined me, looking as relieved as I felt.
Victor sent me a look that was almost apologetic. "She must have slipped on the ice. She was hanging by her fingernails, just over the edge." He didn't say anything more but I knew he was trying to tell me that he couldn't wait for me to get there. I loved my family but I got tired of their constant pity.
"Thank you," I croaked. I glanced at Mim, still clinging to Victor's arms and staring wide-eyed at her beautiful golden savior.
"You have wings," Mim squeaked. Her breath formed a small cloud in the frigid air.
"Yes, I have wings," Victor replied, flashing her one of his a brilliantly white smiles sure to charm any female within a hundred yards. He didn't do it on purpose. The guy just naturally oozes charm.
"But how do they work?" she asked, apparently mistaking his wings for some kind of mechanical contraption.
"Work?" he questioned. He stepped away from Mim and folded his wings over his chest.
"Ohmygod," she murmured in a faint voice. "They're…they're real."
"Aye, they're real. Or at least they're natural," he laughed. He caught my eye. "Why don't you help Mim back to the house?" he suggested, again trying to be helpful, trying to make me feel like I wasn't completely useless.
"You…seem to have everything under control," I pointed out brusquely, and turned back toward home.
"Only because you heard Mim's scream in time for me to get here and help," he insisted calmly.
But it was Mim's soft voice that stopped me. "Dare."
"What?" I barked without turning.
"I don't want to seem ungrateful to Victor but I'd like you to walk me back to the house. And…I want you to tell me what's going on."
"Victor will be happy to fill you in," I threw over my shoulder. "He voted for you. I didn't."
"Victor voted for me?" she echoed. Her voice sounded thin in the cold mountain air. "What do you mean?"
"We were going to tell you about all this," Victor informed her when I didn't answer. "About us. About our wings and what we are and everything else. We voted on it yesterday."
"And you voted against me?" Mim's question reached out to me, her voice tremulous.
"Yes." I turned and faced her.
"Why?"
"Because you didn't trust us," I shot back. "You thought one of us had hurt MacKenzie. Why would I put my trust in a person who doesn't trust me?"
"I didn't really think that you had hurt MacKenzie," she stammered with her gaze fixed on the icy ground at her feet.
"Just my brothers?" I snarled. "My cousins?"
She lifted her chin and raised her eyes. "No."
I crossed my arms over my chest and pinned her with my frigid gaze. "That's what you seemed to be suggesting."
"I never thought you had hurt MacKenzie, Dare. I just knew that you guys were keeping something from me and I didn't understand why."
"What did you think, exactly?" I challenged her. "Who did you think had hurt her?"
"I don't know," she mumbled. "I thought maybe you guys were mixed up with some dangerous people and they'd come looking for you and found MacKen
zie instead."
I watched her face. It was a reasonable explanation and I knew she was telling the truth. It was obvious from the stricken look on her face. But even without that look of pain, I'd have known she was being honest because she was Mim! Mim wouldn't lie. Even Defiance knew that! That's why he had doubts about letting her know we were gargoyles.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "No wonder you were upset with me. No wonder you voted against me."
"So now you've decided we're okay after all?" I snorted, clinging to my anger like a prickly coat of thorns, even though it was a great relief to know she understood we'd had no part in harming Mac.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "But you've been hiding a lot from me, including what happened to MacKenzie and how she got hurt. I want you to explain all that. I want to know what you are. I want you to tell me about your wings."
This was the moment I'd been dreading. "I don't have any wings." I growled, feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare and couldn't wake up.
"You're…not like Victor?" she asked tentatively.
"No, I'm not like Victor," I gritted. I yanked my hoodie over my head so I could show her just how not-like-Victor I was. Instead of a sleek black vest wrapping my chest, ugly ragged spines crossed my upper body and disappeared behind my back.
I expected her eyes to fill with tears of pity. Mim's so tender-hearted. Instead, her brows drew down and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she studied my chest.
Since she didn't seem to be grasping the significance of the situation, I opened what was left of my wings so that she could get the full picture. The narrow, black spines lifted awkwardly away from my body. Instead of forming symmetrical planes in the shape of wings, they splayed out at different angles. Ugly, irregular angles.
Her gaze finally met mine again. "What happened?" she asked bravely while I wrapped the spines around my body again.
Mutely, I shook my head. I'd known I wouldn't be able to deal with this. It was too difficult to talk about.
The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4) Page 24
