*
“Kayla!”
The unmistakable voice of her mother indicated one thing. She was caught.
“What are you doing with a—a—a gargoyle?”
Kayla turned in the direction of her mother’s voice and found her advancing on her with her two sisters flanking her.
“What are you doing?” Kayla’s voice rose with her indignant protest. “Following me?”
“This is not right,” Aunt Muriel said. “You know you should not be associating with their kind.”
“I knew you were up to something,” her mother added. “All the questions about gargoyles. All the absences each evening.”
Mason stepped toward them. “The quarrel is not ours. Kayla and I do not harbor any ill will to other clans.”
The mixture of shocked, surprised, and disgusted expressions on the witches’ faces summarized their distaste for Mason. Kayla’s mother scanned from his face down his bare chest and over his kilt.
“Did you dare touch my daughter?” She raised her hand and hurled a ball of light his way, knocking him off his feet. “You loathsome creature!”
Mason fell to the ground, laid out on his back from the surge of energy.
“What have you done?” Kayla shouted, rushing to his aid. “You don’t know him at all.”
“It’s all right,” he said, sitting upright with unsteadiness.
“No, it’s not,” Kayla said. “Leave us alone,” she cried to the women.
Aunt Muriel and Aunt Emma exchanged knowing looks with her mother.
“Absolutely not!” her mother declared, moving forward to grab her upper arm and drag her from Mason. “This is forbidden. Betraying your coven!”
Her aunts joined in, grabbing Kayla and pulling her from Mason. “Let go of me!” Her cries were futile as they dragged her to their territory “Mason!” she turned over her shoulder.
Mason tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him.
“What have you done to him?” she screamed. “Let me go.” She fought to escape their grasps.
Her aunt said words she didn’t recognize. Her senses were clouded by a sense of calm until she didn’t remember why she was upset. She stopped struggling and let them lead her to the coven.
CHAPTER SIX
Mason stumbled to his feet. That damn tree witch had knocked him on his arse, and he’d been unable to stand for several minutes. His legs were still rubbery.
Bloody hell. He’d had enough of their sense of superiority with their precious protective spells. They’d called him a creature. That was it; he was going there to find Kayla.
Watching her being dragged away pierced his heart with an agony greater than any physical one he’d ever known. What he’d been wrestling with came to him as clear as the sun on a cloudless midsummer day. He loved her. So what if she was a tree witch? The rivalry between their clans no longer mattered.
He loved her, and he’d do anything to be with her. Even facing the wretched spells from the damn witches who’d taken her away.
He flew out of the forest, scanning below for signs of the foursome returning through the moors. The emerald green fields were empty. He must have been knocked out of commission longer than he’d thought. Was Kayla already at her coven? Facing the wrath of the other witches?
Picturing her being punished for cavorting with him filled him with a dread heavy enough to weigh down his wings. Recovering from the distraction, he ascended higher. He soared to a spot with a vantage point of their land. His heartbeat quickened with the risk. It had been several years since he’d last tried to venture there. He’d been a young gargoyle then and far too curious. Fascinated with a world he was forbidden to see, he convinced his youngest brother, Calum, to explore what had been closed off to them.
They had waited until midnight before they took flight, hoping their gargoyle magic of masking themselves in the darkened skies would work on witches the way it did on humans. Excitement had made him buoyant, he’d quickened the flap of his wings and soared forward. And then he had seen the treetops just as he did now. When he had flown toward it, he had hit something invisible, but as hard as glass. Electrical shocks had followed, they had pulsed through him and sent him hurling toward the ground at a dangerous speed. The earth had approached quickly, much too fast. If he didn’t do something fast, he’d end up a bag of jelly on the forest floor, or seriously crippled. He flapped his wings and found a flight rhythm again with nary a second to spare.
And here he was again several years later attempting the same foolish maneuver that had almost killed him in his youth. He shook his head with a nervous laugh. Love made all species do crazy things. But he was older and smarter now, plus he had more experience. Instead of attempting to fly in from above, he descended to the edge of the moors and walked.
Stepping forward with confident strides that belied his wariness, he hoped the witches protective spells had weakened, as they had over the rest of the island. He followed the path that he had watched Kayla take night after night while he waited until she was safe.
The grass beneath his feet thinned as he approached their territory. The grass of the moors gave way to sparsely planted trees. His heart beat quicker. If he made it through, he would find her and ask her to leave with him.
Ferns and groundcover grew all around. He had to be in their territory by now. Did that mean he’d made it through? His chest pumped out as he strode forward. After a moment of triumph, a stab of fear pierced him. If he could get through, so could the younger wolves, the ones Ian had explained most at risk for losing control.
His steps quickened; the idea of Kayla being in danger pushing him forward. The further he penetrated, the more his heart pounded. He had to get to Kayla. Find a way to be with her and keep her safe.
Smack!
The sounds of birds tearing through the branches to flee reached him as he soared through the air, and then hit the ground with a thump. Staring up through the trees to the blue sky meant one thing. He’d been blown onto his back. Jolts of pain ripped through him, as sharp as electrical currents traveling through his veins.
Damn witches! Their barrier was still intact.
Mason lay there staring at the clouds sailing by as the throbbing eased. When he mustered enough strength to rise to his feet, he turned toward the gargoyle’s land.
He’d have to find another way to get to her.
*
Kayla woke in her tree house after a night of no dreams. That was odd, usually her dreams were vivid. She thought back to the night before and bolted upright.
Mason.
Her mother and aunts had found them and had taken her away from him. They must have put a spell on her.
She dressed and found the three women in the clearing between their tree houses. Her mother stirred something in a bowl while her aunts flipped through a book of spells.
“Is that where you found the spell you used on him?” She’d never shouted at her aunts before, but the accusation in her tone was clear. “And me?”
Her aunts stared at her, and one closed the book.
“We had to,” her mother replied in a calm tone. “You were out of control.”
“Out of control?” Kayla repeated, shaking her head. “You have no right to do this. I’m of age to make my own decisions—”
“I have every right to do so since you clearly are making poor decisions! I am still your mother. You are not to see the gargoyle again!”
“What are you going to do, guard me here like a prisoner?” Kayla motioned to the three women standing before her.
“That’s exactly what I should do.” Her mother hmphed while adding flour to the mixture in an earthen bowl.
“Consorting with a gargoyle,” Aunt Muriel muttered with a shake of her head. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t see it with my own eyes.”
“You’re wrong about them,” Kayla said.
Her mother stopped stirring. “What were you thinking?”
“Did you talk to t
he elders about the wolves?”
“I have not had a chance since I’ve been too concerned with my daughter who’s been acting suspicious. And don’t think I’m even about to help you with that lost cause, now.”
“Your mother told us.” Aunt Muriel shook her head. “First, a wolf and now a gargoyle.”
“This whole thing is so stupid.” Kayla paced before them, waving her hands. “You know that, right?”
“Stupid how?”
“We live on one island. Why can’t we be normal, you know, and share the island? Instead of carving out areas.”
Aunt Emma tilted her head. Kayla homed in on her to gain sympathy. “We should share the land as neighbors.”
“Not this again. You know what they’ve done.” Her mother pointed the wooden spoon in her direction, and some of the white mixture fell to the dirt below.
“I know what the elders have told us,” Kayla replied. “But what if they’re not telling the whole story?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” her mother asked.
“Did the tree witches curse the gargoyles?” Kayla asked, scanning from one face to the next for any signs.
“Curse them?” Aunt Muriel raised her brows. “Have you been experimenting with herbs?”
“No. I’m serious.”
“Why would you say that?” her mother asked.
“They think we’ve used magic on them. That it prevented them from having young.”
“And when did we supposedly do this?” Aunt Muriel asked.
“Before the clashes.”
“So that’s why they attacked us?” Aunt Emma asked. “It’s never been clear.”
Kayla’s mother put her hands on her hips. “And where did you get this information from? Your gargoyle friend?”
Her mother skewered her with a glare, but Kayla didn’t back down. “He would be a good source of their side of the story, wouldn’t he?”
“Don’t sass me, Kayla. Consider the source of this skewed information.”
“I am. Since I can’t get a decent explanation from our coven, why wouldn’t I give a reasonable explanation some consideration? We have the potential to create such a curse. I’m asking if someone in our clan actually did.”
“Why would we want to wipe out their clan?” Aunt Muriel asked.
Kayla shrugged. “To claim the isle.”
“Pfft. Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother said.
“So no tree witches that you know of have cursed the gargoyles?”
“Of course not,” her mother said, resuming her stirring.
“Then why were their women unable to bear children?”
Her mother stared at her a long time before answering. “I’m a tree witch, Kayla. Not a psychic.”
Kayla spent the day being monitored by her mother and aunts. She didn’t think she’d ever have a free moment. After hours of this scrutiny, she’d had enough.
“I’m going for a swim,” she said.
“Stay where I can see you,” her mother said.
Kayla rolled her eyes as she walked away, hating being treated like a toddler.
She climbed down the moss-covered craggy rocks and into the clear water. The briskness chilled her right through to her bones until she became accustomed to the temperature. Scores of sea birds soared past descending close to the shore in search of fish. She floated on her back and watched the clouds glide by while her thoughts drifted to Mason.
The idea of not seeing him pained her worse than when she had fallen into brambles, piercing every inch of skin. The thought of never looking into those moss-green eyes, never kissing those full carved lips, or tracing the muscles under his smooth skin, left her with an ache inside. Never having his thick shaft penetrate her with such exquisite pleasure and pain while he peppered her with soft kisses and whispered into her ear—it was unthinkable. Just being near him filled her with such content.
After drying off, she walked to the herb garden, but tended it with a lack of her usual interest. Not being able to see Mason each night filled her with a fear she’d she’d never find joy again.
She’d also miss the concerts with all their vibrancy in her otherwise routine life. A night of music, the energy of the crowd, it provided an excitement that growing up in the coven lacked. Visiting their side of the island had shown her life beyond the forests. A bigger world existed out there, and she wanted to experience it. A world introduced to her by the charismatic guitarist who had captured her heart.
Had he made it home okay? Did he miss her the way she ached for him? The first time she’d seen him on stage, the attraction was purely physical. Since then, it had developed into something more. His protective streak and his concern for her well-being was something no other witch had for her.
If her family was so close-minded that they thought she’d live and die in the trees, cut off from the rest of the world, she’d have to leave the island. If they couldn’t accept whom she loved, she and Mason would have to go somewhere else.
She glanced at the herbs in her hand and discovered an answer to her problem. She cut several more herbs necessary for a potion. One that would make the women sleep long enough so she could escape their watchful eyes. She was running away, leaving the coven. The Highlands, the human cities, it didn’t matter. As long as she was with him.
*
Mason found no solace while he rested in stone, his mind tormented by thoughts of Kayla. Had they punished her because she’d been with him? They’d dragged her from him, knocked him on his arse, and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. Now he started to see why the gargoyles hated the tree witches so.
No. Don’t think that. Kayla is one, and she is the sweetest creature you’ve ever encountered.
He tried calming techniques to shift into a meditative state, but nothing worked. He had to find a way over to Kayla. His failed attempt earlier meant he needed more help. He had to enlist his brothers. Together, they would find a way into the forests of Northern Caledonia; discover the weakness in the coven’s shield.
But first, he had to tell his brothers about Kayla. And the wolves. They most likely wouldn’t understand. But he didn’t know of another way.
Brothers, I need your help, he communicated to them, interrupting their deep repose.
What is it? Calum replied.
I’ve met a lass.
His brothers hooted within their stone forms.
I knew it, Gavin said. That’s why you’ve been acting all moony lately.
And disappearing after our shows, Lachlan pointed out.
There’s a problem, Mason said. We’re unable to be together.
Why not? Calum asked. Is she human?
No, he answered with caution.
In the Highlands? Gavin added.
No, Mason replied in a lower tone. She’s on the Isle. In the silence that followed, he swore he heard his heart beat through his stone form, no matter how ridiculous the idea.
Finally, Bryce spoke. Is she not a gargoyle?
She is not.
More silence. His insides prickled with uneasiness and he forced himself to remain calm. It was impossible to feel human body traits while in stone so it had to be a trick from his mind.
Which is she—wolf or—tree witch? The scorn in Lachlan’s tone communicated his distaste.
The latter.
You’ve fallen for a tree witch? Bryce’s voice conveyed his disapproval.
Do you know nothing of our history? Lachlan added.
That was from a time long ago, a quarrel between others. It’s time for a new future.
You have gone mad, Lachlan declared. She’s bewitched you.
The wolves have approached us and requested our help. The thinning veil has affected them, especially the youngest, who face more difficulty in resisting the lure of the moon. That’s why they’ve been howling in distress lately.
Witches and wolves? Gavin teased. You dog.
This is serious, Gavin. We must make peace with those who share th
e isle. We’re more welcoming to humans who are strangers to the island than we are to those who share it with us.
And cursed us, Bryce replied.
We don’t know that for sure.
You doubt the elders? Lachlan asked.
No. But I question what hasn’t been shown to be true.
You were young, Mason, Lachlan said. Just two years old. You don’t remember. But it was a bloody time. Much death on all sides. If you want to be with a tree witch, I can’t help you, brother.
Mason paused. In the moment that followed, the others also said they couldn’t help him, even his closest brother, Calum. Their response pierced like daggers from all directions.
I understand, but I have no choice. I love her. And if I can’t be with her here, we must leave the isle.
Their silence extended, accentuated by the faint sounds of waves hitting the shore.
Go in peace, brother, Bryce spoke.
Mason’s chest tightened even in stone. This will be my last show with the Knights of Stone. I leave tonight.
*
Kayla raced across the moors to the gargoyle forest, knowing every moment she had was measured. She’d never concocted a sleeping potion before, and she didn’t know how much time she had until they awoke. A twinge of guilt pierced her knowing she’d drugged her mother and aunts, but she didn’t know of another way out. The entire coven was close-minded, stuck in the ways of the past, and prejudiced against anyone not like them.
As she reached the edge of the woods, she smiled, thinking of the first time she met Mason there. All those stolen moments since then under the carpet of stars returned, especially the last time they’d met. The rough way he had pulled her hair and slapped her ass had evoked a surprising response—she had enjoyed it, a lot. Even the memory thrilled her and made her blush.
Her steps were hampered by the sack she carried with her belongings. The sky was darkening, and the gargoyles would animate on stage soon. She didn’t want to miss the moment when her stone lover transformed to warm delicious flesh, whose slightest touch could make her quake with need. Trotting the last several hundred feet, she reached the open area where a crowd surrounded the amphitheater. The gargoyle statues were already dressed in their kilts, which meant the show would soon begin.
Knights of Stone: Mason (Highland Gargoyles Book 1) Page 7
