by Candace Sams
They had almost made it outside to the first floor when Gryph suddenly stopped and turned. "Go, Heather! Take the stone and run!" He shoved the stone at her and looked up.
"What's wrong, why are you..." Heather stopped in mid-sentence when she saw a strange green light heading down the stairwell toward them. She couldn't see what was causing it, just the light itself.
"I said go!" Gryph shouted.
SIX
Heather moved faster than she had ever moved in her entire life. She reached the parking lot, undetected by the guards. She turned, looking for Gryphon, but he wasn't there. Something had alerted him to trouble. It may have been the same thing that obviously had lured the guards away. Having heard Gryph shout, they should have been all over the place, watching every entrance and exit, and calling the police. Either the new guards weren't as adept as they appeared, or someone else might know their routine, and that there were too few of them. Maybe the same someone Gryph stayed behind to confront.
Only God knew what Gryphon had seen. What was the green light? She looked at the stone he had given her, but didn't know what to do with it. Where was he! Panting, she scanned the darkness for his huge frame, but saw nothing. Time passed. It seemed like hours, but she knew it was probably only a very few minutes. Something was wrong. It had to be, or he would have followed. The stone meant too much to him to just shove it at her and leave.
Slowly, Heather made her way back to the door. She couldn't hear anything coming from inside the stairwell. Pulling the door slightly open, she paused to listen. "Gryphon?" she whispered.
Taking a deep breath, she moved back up the stairs. There was no sign of the strange green light or Gryphon O'Connor. She rounded the corner to the upper level stairwell, and saw Gryphon kneeling, holding on to the rail. Heather ran forward.
"What happened?” she gasped. Gryph stood to his full height. She could see blood oozing from a wound in his left side. The left thigh of his jeans had been shredded. She could only imagine the damage done to his leg. "My God, we have to get you to a hospital!"
"You have to leave here. It isn't safe to stay. Hurry, Heather!" If the guards didn't show up and catch them, what had been in the stairwell just might.
Gryph began to descend the stairs with surprising strength for a man who had just been attacked. Heather followed. They quickly made it to the parking lot. She grabbed Gryphon's arm.
"We can get security to call an ambulance and the police. You can tell me what happened while we wait for them."
"No! No hospital, and no police either. Don't worry about me. You 're the one who's in danger. You must leave. Now!"
"Are you mental! I'm not letting you stay here like this." She pointed toward his injuries. "Those wounds are bad, and what in hell do you mean about me being in danger? Tell me what happened."
He glanced back toward the building, then grabbed her by the arm. "Woman, by all that's sacred, leave.”
"No! I'm not going anywhere without you." She looked into his dark eyes and could see a faint glimmer of admiration there even as Gryph dropped to his knees. The loss of blood kept him from being able to stand. She knelt beside him. "Why won't you let me call the paramedics, or at least let me take you to an emergency room?"
"Because, I'm not in your country legally," he replied.
Heather looked at him as though he were crazy. "Why doesn't that surprise me? But it doesn't make any difference. You have to have medical attention. How far do you think you'll get like this?"
"You're a damn stubborn woman." Gryph paused. "All right, if you won't leave because of me, then I'll let you take me somewhere safe. The address is 1301 Embercross Road."
She helped him to his feet and to her car. It was no small task considering how large he was. Heather drove according to the directions Gryphon gave her and watched him closely the entire time. He was fighting to stay conscious, and losing more blood by the minute. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside a Victorian-style home in the suburbs. Heather opened her car door, but Gryph placed a strong hand on her arm to stop her.
"No. This is as far as you go. I can make it into the house by myself." He paused, bowed his head and tried to fight off the pain. "You mustn't go home, lass. It isn't safe for you there right now." When he saw her about to interrupt him with more questions, he quickly opened the car door and got out. He took several steps, then sank to the ground again.
Heather was at his side in an instant." Gryph, dammit! I'm calling an ambulance. We can worry about your legal status later."
"I said NO," Gryph shouted at her. He tried to stand and would have fallen again, but Heather stubbornly stayed by him, letting him rest some of his weight against her until they got inside the house. He made it to the living room before collapsing onto a sofa and sinking into unconsciousness.
"Well, I can call the ambulance now, can't I, you big jerk." Heather spoke to herself. Looking around, she saw no sign of a telephone. "Is anyone home?" she called out. There was no response. Gryph was growing more pale by the moment. She had two choices. She could either search for a telephone, or stop the bleeding. She knew she had a first aid kit in the trunk of her car. Gryph's still form and pallor made her go for the first aid kit. It only took her a few minutes before she was back and kneeling beside him.
The shirt would have to go. Using the scissors in the kit, Heather slowly cut away enough of the shirt to reveal massive, clawlike gashes in his left side. They weren't very deep, but the bleeding was severe. Gryph's handsome face was so still, his breathing uneven. She was so busy cleaning the wounds and trying to stem the flow of blood that she never heard the front door open and close.
"In the name of the Goddess, what's happened?"
Heather turned her head when she heard the deep voice. She saw an older, very handsome version of Gryphon hurry into the room. And she anxiously tried to explain what was happening. "He's badly hurt. He gave me this address and..."
"Gryph.”
Heather halted her explanation when she saw a second person barge into the room. This woman's long dark hair fell over one shoulder, and her face paled when she saw the bleeding and unconscious figure on the sofa. The older man knelt beside Heather and continued what she had started.
"I'm his father, James O' Connor, and this is his mother, Gwyneth," he explained. "What happened?"
"He wouldn't tell me. He wouldn't let me call anyone or let me take him to an emergency room. If you'll show me where a telephone is, I'll dial 911."
"No!" Both of Gryph's parents spoke in unison.
Heather was shocked into speechlessness, but only for a moment. "Look, he told me he's an illegal alien. I don't give a damn about that. The man needs medical attention, and he needs it quickly."
"I thank you for what you've done, Miss..." James stopped when he realized he didn't know her name.
"Heather Green," she supplied.
"Miss Green. We'll take care of him now. And we thank you again. You've done the right thing."
Heather felt completely dismissed. Gryph's parents began to dress his wounds, but he didn't look any better. She didn't want to just leave. Aside from wanting to know if he'd be all right without medical help, she wanted to know how he had been so badly attacked. What had made the animal-like marks on his body? Gryph wasn't a small man by anyone's standards. He looked like he spent half his life in a gym. What kind of creature could do this to him with such apparent ease? How had some animal found its way inside the museum? Was it the same thing that had attacked Ned and the woman in the park? There were so many questions to be answered.
"Easy, son! You're with us now and safe. We'll see to these wounds and get you upstairs."
"Father," he whispered, "is Heather still here?"
Gryph's father glanced back over his shoulder. "Yes."
"She can't go home, Da! She has one of the stones. The creature that attacked me will miss it and come after her. She can't go." Gryph's voice faded as he lost consciousness again.
Gryph's
mother turned to her. "He's concerned about your safety, Miss Green. Perhaps, in light of what's happened, it might be best if you stayed."
"Gwyn, are you crazy?" James asked.
"James!" Gwyneth chastised. "This woman has brought our son to us and has done as he requested by not calling an ambulance. The least we can do is make sure she's safe. Gryph wants that."
"Well, of course. I didn't mean to imply that I didn't care about your being safe, Miss Green. It's just that this situation is a bit complicated" James remarked.
"Please, call me Heather. I understand. You don't even know who I am. I can explain what I know about Gryph's injuries later and how we met. Right now, I only want to make sure he's going to be all right. I'd like to stay at least long enough to help."
"Good, that's settled then. It will take all of us to get Gryph upstairs anyway," Gwyneth said as she gazed down at her son.
Heather saw all of the concern in the world in her expression. His mother was frightened beyond reason, but managed to maintain composure. She could see where Gryph's strength of character originated.
Half an hour later, Gryph was finally in a bed on the second floor. Some of the color had come back into his tanned face, but Heather still feared for the blood he had already lost and the possibility of infection. As his parents helped him, she was able to study them more closely. Gryph's father was a tall man with broad shoulders like his son. His hair was white, thick and shoulder length. His face was, despite his fifty-odd years, still uncannily handsome. Gryph's mother could only be described as beguiling. Her hair was long, black and braided. There was a wonderful streak of silver in it which ran from her forehead to the very end of the braid. She was tall, but very slender. Both of them spoke with the same odd accent as Gryph. It wasn't exactly Irish, but not Scottish either. Heather could see both of them in their devastatingly handsome son. He was lucky to have a family, especially when she could see how much they obviously loved him.
"Come, Heather." Gryph's father led her from the room. "Gwyneth is quite skilled at tending wounds. She'll know what to do. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing our son safely to us. PIease...can you tell me how this happened?"
"I'm not sure I know where to begin." She paused for a moment to gather her composure. "I'm an assistant at the Manhattan Museum of Antiquities. My job is to help research, catalog, and display objects which are part of our permanent collections. My specialty is Celtic studies. Gryph, uh, introduced himself to me recently and had some questions about some acquisitions from Ireland. In particular, there were three Celtic rune stones that he wanted information about. Tonight, I was showing him something I'd found in the collection." Heather stopped not sure how to explain. Then she plunged ahead.
"We were leaving the museum together when something happened. I'm not really sure what. We were going down a back stairway when Gryph became frightened by something I couldn't see. He made me leave while he stayed behind. I got to the parking lot and waited, but he didn't come out. I got worried, went back into the museum to look for him and found him in the stairwell. It looked like he'd been attacked by some kind of wild animal. I really don't know how to explain all of this any better," Heather finished, pushing her hair away from her face.
James seemed to weigh her words and watch her closely. "Gryph told you that the stones as well as other objects have been stolen from Ireland, didn't he?"
"Yes." Heather nodded, with a sigh.
"Do you believe what he's told you is the truth?"
"At first I didn't," she admitted. "But now I do. The rune stones he seemed so interested in were meticulously hidden in one of the crates shipped from County Cork. Many of the objects shipped from Ireland have been mislabeled and tagged improperly to make them appear to have come from approved archeological digs. Gryph said the artifacts were actually taken from unapproved burial sites. Someone was grave robbing."
James nodded. "Exactly. But why are you helping my son?"
His gaze seemed to pierce right through her. It reminded her of that first night when Gryph had broken into her apartment. Their eyes were so alike. "To be quite honest, I don't know. Except he's the only person who's been telling me the truth lately. I don't even know why any of this is his concern. Is he some kind of cop or something? He told me he was here to retrieve what's been stolen. But, if he's working within the law, why won't he go to the local police for help, and why is he here illegally? There's so much I don't understand, so much he won't tell me." Heather glanced back toward the room where Gryph was lying.
"He's trying to protect you. For that same reason, we can't tell you any more than he can," Gwyneth said as she entered the hallway outside Gryph's room. "He's asking to see you."
Heather nodded and quietly entered the room. Gryph was awake, but any fool with eyes could see he was in a great deal of pain. Muscles in the side of his jaw seemed to clench, as did his hands. "Why are you so stubborn?" Heather asked.
"Why are you,” Gryph responded with a hint of a smile, trying to belie the pain he felt.
"Your mother said you wanted to see me." She pushed a stray lock of black hair off his forehead as she sat next to him.
"I want you to give the stone to my parents. I know you don't know much about any of us, Heather, but you have to trust someone. If you go to the local authorities, they'll take the stone, and it may never be returned to its rightful place. It could be locked away indefinitely." Gryph closed his eyes, fighting unconsciousness.
"It's evidence in a murder case, Gryph."
He needed to make her understand, without telling her too much, that the stones couldn't remain in the outside world. "The rune stones have to be where no one can get their hands on them. They've got to go back, Heather. Back to where they came from."
"That's all you've said you've ever wanted, isn't it? For the things that were taken to be returned?" She studied him.
"Yes. And I'll make a bargain with you. I'll let you do what you think is best about the other artifacts. There are more than enough stolen objects to use as evidence in a murder. But I've got to retrieve the other two rune stones and take them back to Ireland. When I've done that, I promise, you'll not be troubled by me again."
"You won't be lurking about parking lots anymore?" She tried to smile and raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
Gryph returned her smile with one of his own." I promise you, lass. And I always keep my word."
"How will you keep it if you're dead, Gryph? Tonight we only took one stone. What's going to happen when you try to retrieve the other two? And why won't you tell me what happened to you?" Heather persisted.
"Heather..." Gryph began with a warning note in his voice. He didn't want her to know what would have to be done to secure the other stones. She'd done more than enough.
"I know, I know. You're not going to tell me. God, I'm getting sick of hearing that." Her gaze softened when she felt how hot his skin was. She traced his face with her hands and knew he was desperately ill.
"Trust me, Heather. You don't really want to know." Gryph placed one of his hands over hers to keep it on his cheek.
"Stubborn," Heather muttered, referring to his nature.
"Tenacious," Gryph replied. He laid back, sighed and closed his eyes.
From the tortured expression on his face, his pain looked like it was increasing. Heather gently placed one hand on his chest where his shirt had been torn open. It was an automatic gesture of comfort. Gryph's response was spontaneous. Without opening his eyes, he turned his face toward her other palm, which still rested on his cheek.
Gwyneth and James watched from the doorway in amazement. They had never seen their son interact this way with another soul. His way was to guard his every action, to have no real connection of any permanence to anyone. They carefully left the room and closed the door behind them.
"Gwyn, what's happening in there can't be allowed. The Sorceress would never approve," James admonished.
"Approve or not, it is happening, a
nd I won't stop it. Neither will you," Gwyn replied, staring at her husband.
"You know our law, and so does Gryphon. He can't..."
"James," she interrupted, "he's dying"
James looked at his wife and felt absolute horror flood his gut. "What are you talking about? The wounds are serious, but Gryphon is unbelievably strong."
"It isn't the wounds themselves, it's the poison that's now in Gryph's system," Gwyneth whispered, lowering her head. Tears fell down her cheeks.
"Poison! What poison?" James took her in his arms and stared into her face. Fear made him punctuate his words.
"The creature he fought was a creation brought about through the evil use of the stones. Its talons were poisonous. I don't know how to save him. And unless the Sorceress does, he'll see two, possibly three more sunrises. Then, he'll die." Gwyneth turned away slowly.
James' face fell in misery. "You didn't tell him?"
"He knows. He told the woman what he wanted her to hear. He doesn't want her to suffer. Apparently, he feels a deep connection to her."
"Is there nothing that can be done?" James asked softly. "He can't just die. He can't."
"I'll send for the Sorceress. That's all that can be done. But the poison is very strong. It spread quickly."
"I'll retrieve the other stones myself, " James promised.
"No," Gwyneth insisted, "I'll not lose the both of you. The creature will have to be destroyed, but it should be left to the Sorceress. The beast no longer needs the stones. According to Gryphon, it can change at will without them. All it needed was the original enchantment from the stones' surface. Gryphon said that each time he struck the beast, it adapted and overcame the force of his attack. He didn't have time to induce his own change for protection. The only reason he wants the stones is to keep this from happening again. To keep anyone else in the outside world from interpreting them and abusing their powers. Our son knows someone else will have to stop the beast if he can't. He might just die having tried to do what the Sorceress commanded." Gwyneth began to cry in earnest.
James pulled her to him again and held her close as his own tears fell.
