The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4)

by Taylor Longford

  "I don't have it with me," Reason answered calmly.

  "I'm sorry," Donovan said like he wasn't sorry at all. "But you're going to have to come with us."

  "What's going on?" I asked, trying to catch Simpson's eye. I got the impression that he didn't agree with what was going down and that scared me because I figured it would have to be something bad to make Simpson question his superior.

  "Let's go," Donovan barked and put a hand on Reason's shoulder, swiftly turning him. A glint of metal flashed in his hands and I realized he had a pair of handcuffs he planned to use.

  But before I could say anything, Reason reacted. He barely lifted a hand in Donovan's direction, but it sent the older man flying across the room to bang against the wall. The agent scrambled to his feet, looking pissed, but Reason planted his feet in a wide stance. "I'll go with you," he said quietly. "You don't need restraints."

  While Donovan glared at Reason and dusted himself off, Simpson said. "You don't have to come, Miss Sandoval."

  "Just try to stop me," I growled.

  "Suit yourself," Donovan snarled as he strode back toward us. "But leave your phones here."

  "What?" I exclaimed. "Why?"

  "Just leave them here," he repeated sharply.

  Keeping my eye on him, I backed up a few steps to place my phone on the kitchen counter then resettled my bag on my shoulder.

  "I'll have to check that bag," he insisted next. When I handed it over, he pawed through my personal stuff and pulled out Reason's long knife. "Really?" he said pointedly, looking from me to Reason.

  "I wouldn't carry it unless I needed it," Reason said evenly and stared Donovan down.

  "You got any more weapons on you?" he demanded.

  Silently, Reason shook his head. But Donovan insisted on patting him down before we left, like Rees was some kind of criminal.

  We didn't have far to go. The federal agents loaded us up in their SUV and took us to a small office building a few miles away. Two security guards sat at a desk in the lobby and waved us toward the elevator, which took us up to the fourth floor. The agents marched us to a corner conference room where Donovan motioned us to take a seat at the long table. Looking around, I wanted to cry. The two exterior walls were made entirely of glass—large windows that looked out over the city—which made Reason an easy target for a harpy. The fact that the glass was black just meant that we wouldn't see her coming.

  Ever since the first harpy attack at my apartment, Reason had been careful to stay inside our little fortress apartment after nightfall. Here, in this building, he was utterly exposed to the harpy. Only a thin pane of glass stood between him and a lifetime of captivity. To make things worse, he didn't have the phone that was supposed to help his pack track him…and hadn't marked me.

  "You guys are making a really big mistake," I told them. I motioned toward Rees. "There's a reason why this guy sleeps with a sledgehammer under his pillow."

  "Really?" Donovan sneered. "And why is that, Miss Sandoval?"

  "Because there are things out there that you don't want to know about."

  Donovan helped himself to a bottle of water from a small refrigerator against the wall but didn't offer us anything. "We represent the US Government, Miss Sandoval. And there is nothing that we don't want to know about."

  I stalked over to the fridge and got water for the rest of us, Simpson included, and passed them around. "Have you ever seen the old Terminator movies, Agent Donovan?"

  He just snorted in answer.

  "Because what you're dealing with is bigger and stronger and meaner than a Schwarzenegger cyborg."

  "Are you trying to tell us that something's after you?" Simpson asked sharply.

  But Donovan cut him off. "This building is secure."

  I opened my plastic bottle and took a gulp of water. "If you're talking about the two guards downstairs, this thing won't be coming in through the lobby."

  "Agent Simpson and I are both sufficiently armed," he clipped out, clearly losing patience with me.

  I twisted the cap back on and tipped the bottle in his direction. "If you mean that gun strapped into the holster under your arm, you'd better start getting it out now, because you won't be getting much warning."

  Donovan scraped his hands back through his hair. I think I was getting to him. Then he yanked a chair out from beneath the table and ordered me into it.

  "What do you want with us?" Reason asked, standing his ground while I threw myself into the chair.

  "We have some questions for you," Donovan answered. "Then we'll be running a few tests."

  "Tests?" I barked. I didn't like the sound of that. My gaze flitted around the room, instinct prompting me to look for an escape route.

  "We have a small lab downstairs," Donovan said all-businesslike as he paced to the other side of the table. "We'll be drawing some blood after we've finished with our questions."

  "What kind of questions?" I asked, and gave Simpson an alarmed look.

  But the young agent's gaze skittered away as he took a chair across from me. He seemed resigned to Reason's fate, even if he wasn't too happy about it.

  Donovan, on the other hand, was way happy. "We'd like to know why you turned up in Boulder a few weeks after we started to receive reports of unusual sightings, sightings similar to the ones reported in Limon."

  I crossed my arms on the table. "We don't know anything about these sightings you're talking about. I came here from Texas to attend school. Shortly after I got here, I hooked up with Reason. It's as simple as that."

  "So, what are you trying to tell me?" Donovan snarled. "That your friend's arrival in Boulder was a complete coincidence and had nothing to do with these sightings?"

  "Don't get all bent," I scolded him. "I'm just telling you that you wasted your time dragging us down here."

  Donovan's face turned red and for a minute I thought he was going to totally lose it. That muscle twitched beneath his eye again and I heard his teeth grinding together like a car with bad breaks. "It's going to be a long night, Miss Sandoval, so you might as well advise your friend to take a seat."

  Up until then, Reason had been watching us with a detached air of indifference. Now he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but that won't be possible."

  Donovan's eyes narrowed to cold slits and he hulked over the table. "The way I see it, you don't have much choice, boy. Take a seat," he shouted.

  "Elaina tried to warn you but it's too late," Reason murmured.

  I looked over at him and my heart stopped.

  His gaze connected with mine. "She's coming," he said.

  What happened next made me so mad. Because Reason heaved me out of my chair and stuffed me under the table. Then he turned to face the windows with no weapon other than the chair I'd just vacated.

  Stuck beneath the long conference table, I didn't see the harpy come through the window. I just heard the crash of splintering glass, which was getting to be an all-too-familiar sound. Reason braced his legs wide and swung the heavy chair at the monster.

  Donovan and Simpson were so behind the action, they didn't even have their guns out yet. I saw Reason's feet leave the floor and scrambled after him on my hands and knees. The empty window and cold air felt like déjà vu as I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his legs, trying to stop the harpy from hauling him out the window. My added weight slowed her down but I was losing my grip. 'Course it didn't help that Reason was trying to push me away with his foot.

  "Lainey, let go," he shouted, lifting his knee and giving me a shove that almost sent me crashing to the floor. I clawed higher and snagged his belt, wishing I weighed more.

  I sorta got my wish when Simpson wrapped his arms around us, not that I think his motives were noble. I'm guessing he just didn't want to lose his lab specimen. But it worked. The harpy's high-pitched shriek almost busted my ears as she strained to reach the window, but she wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't move all three of us.

  So, what was Donovan doing
all this time? Evidently, fighting his gun out of his holster. And when he finally succeeded, he started firing. The noise was horrific, the harpy's shrieking almost as loud as the deafening explosions coming from Donovan's gun, followed by the zinging whine of the bullets ricocheting off the harpy's stony hide.

  It was nuts.

  "Stop shooting!" Reason roared above the ear-splitting racket. "You're going to kill us all."

  Naturally, Donovan ignored him and kept blasting away like he was trying to set a Guinness World Record for emptying his gun. I think all he managed to hit was Simpson…because the young agent suddenly let go of us. My feet dragged along the carpeted floor for a few feet and then we swung off into the night with Reason dangling from the harpy's talons and me hanging from his white emo belt.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Reason swiftly pulled me up to his chest and locked me tightly to his frame while all the time telling me how I shouldn't have done what I just did. I didn't try to argue or explain myself. I didn't tell him that I wasn't trying to be heroic or that I was just trying to stop the harpy from making off with him. I just held him tightly back. Behind us, the sharp bark of firearms creased the air and I turned my head to look back at the building. The fourth floor was ablaze with lights and I could see a single gunman standing in the window. Every few seconds, a small burst of orange spat from the barrel of his gun.

  "Idiots," Reason muttered as tried to shield me with his body, and the occasional bullet glanced off the harpy's body armor.

  The harpy flew out over Boulder and headed for the mountains again. I guessed that she must have a hideout somewhere in the foothills just west of the city. And it occurred to me that Chaos might be holed up in the same general area. That would explain how he was on hand to rescue me two days ago. Thinking about Chaos sent a pang of guilt searing through my conscience. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your brother," I whispered.

  "Don't worry about that now," he murmured.

  "There might not be a later," I pointed out morosely.

  He gave me a tight squeeze and promised, "There'll be a later."

  We spent about ten minutes in the air before the harpy started her descent. Looking around, I could see we were in a high mountain valley with lots of trees and few signs of life. There was a cabin here and there, dark squares against the white snow, but few of them looked inhabited. Every now and again, you could see the lights of a distant home but when Motschka put us down beside a dilapidated cabin, the nearest light was a faint flicker miles away.

  Immediately, the harpy started herding us toward the cabin's door but Reason planted his feet on the firm crust of snow outside the cabin. "Let the lass go," he announced loudly. "And I'll cooperate with you."

  The harpy cocked her head, her single eye glaring evilly as it slid from Rees to me. "Spider girl must like gargoyle to try so hard to keep him from Motschka."

  Reason shrugged. "You know how human lasses are. They're ridiculous creatures. They all fall for gargoyle boys. She's nothing to me."

  Okay, that was hard to listen to even though I realized he was probably just trying to bargain for my freedom. Just the same, it hurt. Imagine a spike going through your heart and you'll have a good idea of how I felt. Without realizing it, I took a step away from him.

  "Let her go," Reason continued in a low purr as he paced toward the harpy. "This is between you and me. We're different than them, Motschka. We understand each other."

  The harpy's hoarse laughter cracked the quiet silence of the mountain forest. "Don't care about spider girl?" she taunted him in a high-pitched squawk. "Don't care if Motschka pulls off her spindly little legs? Scrawny little arms?"

  Reason's frame went rigid and his face turned dark with barely leashed fury. For several seconds, he fought for composure but a storm was coming and he couldn't stop it. "You harm one hair on her head," he exploded in a rough shout, "and I'll take yours off at the shoulders."

  That was more like it. And even though I knew his reaction had more to do with his protective gargoyle instincts than his feelings for me, it was still nice to hear. I took a step back in his direction and hung onto to his arm. Personally, I liked the idea of going down together. Although getting away together would have been the preferred option.

  Losing her patience, Motschka approached us with a menacing stride and backed us both inside the one-room cabin. The place was rustic, to say the least. Deserted, solitary and empty. If it had been built as a romantic getaway, it had long outlived its use-by date. If it was meant to be a hunter's shack, all I can say is that those good old boys liked to rough it. It was about twenty feet by ten and roughly thrown together with logs. Inside, the walls were papered with ancient newsprint and the tile floor was peeling up at the edges. The small windows were so dirty, you couldn't see out of them. And overhead, years of cobwebs clung to the rafters, giving me the uncomfortable feeling that something must be crawling on me or would be any minute now.

  A makeshift kitchen sat at one end of the cabin, with a few empty, doorless cupboards and a yellow Formica counter. The only thing that really identified it as a kitchen was the sink in the middle of the counter but it was a chipped porcelain bowl with no tap or spigot, and no water that I could see. A fireplace took up the opposite wall, built from rough rocks barely held together with crumbling mortar. There wasn't any furniture; not a single stick.

  "Home sweet home," I murmured as I looked around the dark space.

  The door slammed behind us and we were alone for the time being. I held my breath and strained my ears for any sound but the mountains were quiet. Not even a breeze stirred in the pine trees surrounding the cabin. I leaned back against the wall and gave Reason an accusing look.

  "I didn't mean any of that crap," he muttered as he walked to the window and rubbed a circle into the grime, letting in a dull spear of light.

  "Which crap?" I asked. "The part where you said I meant nothing to you, or the part where you threatened to behead Motschka if she harmed me?"

  He shot an arm out and pulled me close. "You figure it out."

  I knotted my fingers in his jacket and hung on. "What's she doing out there?" I whispered.

  "Checking," he murmured. "Listening and watching. Making sure we weren't followed."

  "Who on earth is she expecting?" I asked, thinking that we were well and truly alone.

  He rubbed some more circles into the windowpanes, letting a little more moonlight into the room. "Another gargoyle. My pack. A harpy hoping to steal her prize." He looked down at me, the silvery threads of light casting his profile in a dramatic contrast of black and white. "You shouldn't have got involved," he said bluntly, while caging me in the protective shield of his arm.

  "I know," I agreed. "But I wanted you to have this." From my pocket, I pulled out a long shard of glass that I'd scooped off the floor after the window broke.

  He gave me a stern look. "You could have cut yourself."

  I wiggled my fingers at him. "They're called gloves," I told him sarcastically. Swiftly, I shoved the glass in his pocket then stripped off my gloves and stuffed them in on top, hoping he could use them against the harpy.

  Reason drew me closer to the window and turned me into the meager light. "She won't give us much time alone," he said, stripping my coat away and pushing the sleeve of my T-shirt up to my shoulder.

  Before I could ask, "time for what?" his hand wrapped around my biceps. I caught a glimpse of his sharp barbs before he started carving a rough outline of his rune into my upper arm.

  "Listen, Lainey," he breathed while he worked. "When the harpy comes back in, I'm going to get her talking, see what I can find out about my missing kin while I try to distract her and turn her away from you. When you get a chance, I want you to run for it."

  "But—"

  "When you open the door, she should turn toward you. I'll use the opportunity to attack her from behind."

  "But—"

  "I should be right behind you, but if I'm not, I want you to k
eep on running until you find help. She's not going to kill me if she can avoid it. She wants my venom for as long as she can keep me alive. Head toward lights if you see them, otherwise make your way downhill. If you hear the harpy coming after you, find someplace to hide. You're human so she won't be able to scent you and track you down. You got that, Lain?"

  I looked up into his lake-blue eyes. I didn't tell him that I'd run for a while. I didn't tell him that I'd stop running if he didn't follow me. I didn't say that I'd come back looking for him if he didn't make it out of the cabin. I knew he needed me to do this. He was a gargoyle and he needed to protect me. So, I just said, "I got that, Rees."

  "Get to a phone. Call the pack and lead them back here."

  That was a sound plan, except for one thing. "What if you're not here when we come back? What if the harpy moves you somewhere else?"

  A deep ridge formed between his eyebrows. "That's a chance we'll have to take. We don't have many options, here."

  "Okay," I told him softly. "I'll do my best."

  Finished with my arm, he lowered his head and blew on my new tattoo. "Does it sting?"

  "Not too much," I answered. It burned a little but not in a bad way. It burned in a sorta warm, I-belong-to-Reason way.

  I tucked my chin into my chest and looked down at the finished rune. It was rough work and he hadn't taken the time to fill it in, but keep in mind that Reason is the next Andy Warhol. It looked pretty good. More importantly, it meant he'd never belong to that ugly, flying landslide. He was mine for as long as I could hang onto him. And I planned to hang on tight.

  It was cold, standing around in nothing but my T-shirt. Reason noticed me shiver and helped me back into my coat, then pulled me against his chest and stroked my hair while we listened for the harpy's return. The mountains were deathly silent. There was no sound other than the distant thrum of a helicopter, probably a flight-for-life heading to an accident on one of the mountain roads.

  I'd actually just begun to halfway relax when the door suddenly banged open, followed by a blast of frigid air. The harpy stalked across the room toward us after slamming the door closed again, her wings wrapping around her body like one of those coat dresses that always look so ugly, even on runway models. On her it was a monstrosity.