by E A Price
“Let me see,” said Melissa.
Gracchus pursed his lips, but he didn’t stop her. Hey, she’d probably seen worse. She had too, but only just.
“Your brother…” she started.
“Yes,” said Colt grimly. “His scent is on her.”
“She’s wearing the same uniform Bell was, murmured Melissa.
Colt and Chris looked at her sharply.
“Maybe she was following him, and he caught her,” she suggested.
“She was our enemy?” asked Gracchus
“Yes, I think so.”
“Then good riddance,” declared Grey mercilessly.
“We should keep going,” said Colt, “I don’t like leaving her like this, but I don’t want to see any others like her tonight.”
Gracchus squeezed her hand reassuringly before they all clambered into the van. Wearily, she wedged herself between Chris and Colt. Night time had started to seem precious because of Gracchus, but she couldn’t wait for this particular night to be over.
*
“We need to pack up and move out,” snapped Bell.
He strode through Marsters’ office and ordered two doctors to get out and prep the subjects for transport. They scuttled away while Marsters damn near started spitting with rage.
“How dare you just barge in here and…”
“My officer saw one of the escapees tonight – the wolfman, she was following him and now… I can’t contact her.”
Bell ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He had a fix on her location – they all had trackers just in case. She wasn’t moving, and he had to figure that wasn’t a good sign. He sent someone out there to find her, but he didn’t for one second imagine she was still alive.
Marsters seemed to calm a little and relaxed into her chair. She was working late at the facility – the one the wolfman had escaped from. Well, working was probably a stretch for her. She just went to the facilities to snarl at her employees and sneer at their supernatural subjects.
“Your person is mistaken. He was killed in the escape attempt by one of my men.”
“Apparently not,” he muttered.
Bell wasn’t paying much attention; he was too busy sending out messages to his guys to prep a temporary facility.
Marsters clucked her tongue and yelled into her phone to send someone into her office. Bell looked up briefly as a swaggering security guard strolled into the office. He gritted his teeth. Bell was supposed to be in charge of security for the whole council, but Marsters – the uppity cow that she was – insisted on having some of her own security guards at her facilities. Blackthorne allowed her because he needed her, for now at least, but yeah, big surprise they were in the middle of a crisis thanks to her pig-headedness.
The security guard – Dale – smirked at Bell. He knew full well Bell, and all his men resented him, and he never missed a chance to rub it in his face. Cocky bastard.
“Dale,” she said crisply. “Is there anything you wish to tell me about our breakout last year? In particular, what happened to our wolfman?”
“Ah…” His cockiness started slipping in the face of Marsters’ barely restrained fury. “Well, he, ah, died…” He rubbed his arm nervously.
Bell never felt intimidated by Marsters, but he wouldn’t deny that she had a quality that could turn the smuggest of men into twelve-year-old boys.
“You saw the body?” she asked in a deceptively calm way.
“Well, ah… there’s no way he could have survived that.”
Bell groaned. Idiot.
“Idiot!” snapped Marsters, echoing his thoughts.
She reached into her desk drawer, pulled out a gun and shot Dale. He slumped to the ground. Bell was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recovered. It was nothing compared to the things he had witnessed Blackthorne do.
Marsters put the gun back and rubbed her temples. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
Bell rolled his eyes. Crazy bitch. She was even worse than her niece, whom Bell had been forced to work with. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was a relief when the niece died.
“The wolfman is probably on his way here. We need to move.”
Marsters waved a hand in disgust. “Can’t we just kill him when he turns up? Or even better capture him?” Her eyes gleamed at the thought.
“That’s all well and good, but what if he told people where the facility is? The cops could arrive any second. We need to abandon this facility, and set up a new one.”
“But…”
“Blackthorne’s orders,” he grumbled with an air of finality.
“Ugh! Oh, sure, well, it’s only money isn’t it?!” She got up and started throwing things into her purse. “My money! Certainly not his!”
Bell ignored her. “The van for the test subjects will be here in ten. They need to be tranqed by then.”
“Fine, start packing them, whatever.”
“You need to get to a safe house.”
She opened her mouth to object, or possibly just say something vitriolic about his parentage - he wasn’t sure which.
“If he remembers you, he’ll come after you,” he said with his last sliver of patience. “Send all non-essential personnel home, all those not needed for the move.”
Marsters continued grousing, but Bell tuned her out. If she wanted, she was welcome to stay there and get mauled, in fact, he would prefer it, but he was getting the heck out of there.
Twenty-Nine
They stared at the burning building. Gracchus placed his hand on Melissa’s shoulder.
The trail led them here, but clearly, they were expected. Or perhaps, it was Colt’s brother who was expected, and whoever had been here was now trying to cover their tracks.
“They sure left in a hurry,” murmured Chris, staring around at the mess.
“My brother was here recently, within the hour,” said Colt, “but after the fire started.”
“You’re sure?”
“His stench is everywhere,” grumbled Grey, prowling the area, searching for scents.
Gracchus inhaled. The scent of the fire was intense, nearly all-consuming, but he could smell the lingering scent of a beast man.
“I can smell blood,” growled Grey. “Gargoyle blood.”
Gracchus flew over to him and dropped to the ground sniffing.
“I would know that scent anywhere.” Grey flapped his wings angrily. “They have gargoyles.”
“It is mixed with… oil,” said Gracchus.
Chris appeared at his side. “Yeah, even I can smell the oil. They must be moving them somewhere.” He tilted his head at Grey. “You think you can track them?”
Grey puffed out his chest. “Yes,” he grumbled, mildly affronted that anyone imagined he couldn’t. “They headed north.”
“My brother is going somewhere else,” said Colt scowling at the tablet.
“They have gargoyles,” murmured Gracchus, exchanging a look with Melissa.
Finding the wolfman was important, but he could not leave gargoyles to an unknown fate – they had to be rescued.
“We should split up,” she said decisively. “There’s a truck over there; maybe I can hotwire it.”
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Hotwire?”
“Hey, I’m a woman of many talents.”
Gracchus smiled as she jogged over to the truck. She climbed into the driver’s seat, pulled down the visor and the keys fell in her lap. She picked them up and jingled them.
“Huh. That was easier than expected. Colt and I will go after his brother.”
“As will, I,” rumbled Gracchus.
“Gracchus…”
“No arguments,” he murmured.
He leaned into the truck and caught her chin in his fingers, lifting her face to look at him. She smiled softly, and his heart tightened even more. Perhaps he was having a heart attack. He had not ever heard of such a thing happening to a gargoyle, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.
“I will
need to be outside the van to track the scent,” said Grey, scowling at Chris. “I know you prefer me to be in the back.”
Chris gave him a sly look. “You wanna ride up front with the window down, your head out of the window, like a good boy?”
Grey’s scowl turned into a frown, unsure of what he meant.
Gracchus clambered into the back of the truck. He would leave Chris to deal with Grey.
Melissa waved her phone at Chris. “Keep in touch.”
*
“Must you follow me everywhere?” taunted Marsters as Bell trailed into her house.
He stepped over the purse, coat, and shoes that she had casually dropped on the floor.
“Blackthorne said…”
“Blackthorne, Blackthorne, Blackthorne!” She flashed him an evil smile. “You’re such a good lapdog aren’t you?”
Bell’s mouth tightened as she moved to the stairs.
Blackthorne ordered him to take her home, get her to pack a bag and move her to the safe house – along with her stone gargoyle that was currently sitting in her living room. At present, they lacked anyone who could wake him, but he might be needed later – there was no point in wasting a gargoyle or letting Luc’s clan get hold of it.
His men were fifteen minutes out, they were bringing a van for the gargoyle, and with any luck, Marsters could ride with them.
Marsters started stomping upstairs, and he tried to follow. She spun on him and scowled.
“No, you can stay down here.”
Bell opened his mouth to argue, but then quickly stopped himself. Why was he bothering? It wasn’t like he was desperate for her company – and he sincerely did not want to see her packing her underwear. He shuddered inwardly.
He made his way into the living room and looked at the gargoyle. Thing weighed an absolute ton.
Bell rolled his eyes as he heard thumps and grumbles from upstairs. Great. She was throwing one of her hissy fits. He folded his arms and impatiently tapped his foot. The sooner he could get away from her the better.
He froze at the sound of a growl behind him, but by then it was too late. He didn’t even have time to unfold his arms, never mind get to his gun.
Thirty
“Where are we?” asked Melissa as she stepped out of the truck.
Gracchus jumped to the ground beside her and scanned the area, searching for movement. His tail flicked to and fro. Everything was still, and that made him a little uneasy.
Melissa had driven while Colt directed her. His brother had seemed to be moving erratically, but finally, he stopped at a rather large house outside of Portland.
“The Addams family summer home?” suggested Colt jabbing a finger at his tablet.
“Ah,” rumbled Gracchus as the reference clicked, “because the Addams family is spooky, and this house it spooky, as well. I understand.”
Colt ignored him, but Melissa smiled. He knew all those hours of TV would pay off eventually. But he didn’t have long to enjoy the sweet, and dare he hope, adoring expression on her face. A scream sliced through the quiet night and the three of them fled towards the house.
Gracchus burst into the house, not bothering to let doors or door handles slow him down. The smell of blood was immediately upon him, and he found the owner of the blood a moment later. Colt was barely a second behind him, and Melissa soon joined them.
“Oh,” she gasped, and Gracchus instinctively placed a hand around her shoulders, drawing her to his body, covering her with his wings.
The male was in a heap on the floor. He was bloody, but it appeared his death had been quick, which he was told was supposed to be some comfort at least.
“I can smell my brother’s scent,” said Colt. “He must have killed him.”
“That’s Bell,” said Melissa, gently but firmly trying to move Gracchus’ wings out of her line of vision.
“Ah, well,” added Colt.
Melissa and Colt shrugged uneasily. They felt guilty that they did not feel sad that the male had died. Gracchus had no such qualms; he considered himself even-tempered in most things, but he did not have compassion for his enemies. The male was a danger to his clan, and now he was dead – it was the best possible outcome they could have hoped for. He almost wished Grey was there to say something inappropriate – at least it would alleviate the mood. Luckily, they had another diversion.
Their eyes swiveled to the ceiling as another scream cut through the house, followed by a bone-shaking roar. Colt was the first to get there, with Gracchus snapping at his heels and Melissa behind him.
They found a small female, backing away from a colossal beast man advancing on her. She had a gun in her hands, but it didn’t seem like it was much of a deterrent to the wolf. The enormous creature was almost as large as Gracchus, and his teeth seemed even more deadly. The female gaped at them as they noisily poured into the bedroom.
The beast man didn’t react to their presence, but given that they had made more noise than two steam trains colliding, he couldn’t possibly not know they were there.
“Caleb,” murmured Colt in a quiet, soothing voice.
Caleb didn’t react, merely kept moving towards the female.
“Stay back, hairy, or you’ll get some silver bullets right in your overgrown chest,” hissed the woman, angrily rather than fearfully.
Never taking his eyes off the wolf, Gracchus started carefully moving toward her. The wolf spotted his movement and snarled, lunging and blocking his way.
“Take it easy, Caleb,” said Colt.
“Shut up, you idiots!” snapped the woman. “Why don’t you do something useful?!”
Gracchus glanced back at Melissa. She had one hand on her gun. She was wavering as to whether she should take it out and use it – but she seemed to be in two minds on who to use it on.
“Easy, easy,” repeated Colt.
The beast man yowled, and Gracchus’ wings quivered. The sound was even worse than he remembered. The wolf grunted as he started changing. Bones cracked, and fur receded as he became human again. Well, human enough, in this form he still looked like a wild animal. He was large and rough, with almost black eyes, glaring at all of them reproachfully.
Gracchus flicked a worried look at Melissa. He was reassured that she was close enough that he could get to her before Caleb did – if or when he snapped. She caught his eye and nodded, and he tried to indicate with a flick of his head that he wanted her to leave and run away to somewhere safe – possibly all the way home to hide under her bed, but if she understood his subtle movement, she ignored him.
“You want me to spare her life?” rasped Caleb cocking his head at the woman. Gracchus took it that the shrill woman was Marsters. “You think she deserves to live?”
His voice was scratchy and thin, probably because he had not used it very much recently.
“Caleb,” murmured Colt, trying to calm him.
“Four years of torture she put me through!” Caleb howled. “Four bloody years!”
“We had to,” scoffed Marsters, her gun waving in a worrying way.
“For what?” asked Melissa, taking a step towards Caleb.
Gracchus tried a bigger head shake to try and show her that he wanted her to leave, but she merely frowned at him.
He adored Melissa’s curiosity – it was one of the many things he found so appealing about her. But at that moment in time, he could not deny that he wished she would just shut her mouth and run away like a normal human female!
Marsters glared at them with equal amounts loathing and haughtiness. She drew herself up to her full height, which was pretty diminutive – even Melissa had a couple of inches on her. But the female had enough bravado to go out and conquer a whole nation with just a paperclip to aid her.
“We need to know how to make more of him,” said Marsters in a crisp, confident voice. She sneered at Caleb. “It is your duty to make sure that we have enough soldiers for the upcoming war.”
“Duty?” repeated Colt.
“War?”
repeated Melissa.
Marsters smiled grimly. “The beast men were created by her – to lead her armies to victory. The least you could do is sacrifice yourself for her again.”
“Her?”
Colt was still nonplussed, but Gracchus had a bad feeling he knew where this was going. He recognized a fanatical supporter if ever he saw one. Even in his day, years after she had died, her followers still tried to kill and seize power in her name.
“Morgan Le Fay, of course,” said Marsters with relish. She looked at Caleb. “She created you; we just need to figure out how to make more of you for when she returns.”
Gracchus growled out a huff and Marsters glowered at him.
Melissa’s face creased in confusion. “But she’s dead, right? For like, centuries now - I mean, that’s pretty darn dead.”
Marsters smiled smugly. “Not for long.”
Gracchus’ tail thumped uneasily. It would be so easy to dismiss her as just another Le Fay zealot, and yet…”
“Enough!” roared Caleb, the dregs of his patience entirely running out.
“Caleb, it’s not too late to stop this,” said Colt urgently.
“Yes, it is,” his hissed bitterly. “I’ve lost everything. They killed my wife, my baby…”
“Caleb, I had no…”
He bared his growing fangs at Marsters. “The night I was taken, they killed them both to get to me – my wife, my baby daughter. I have nothing.”
“Caleb,” rumbled Gracchus, and Caleb snapped to look at him in surprise, almost as if he hadn’t noticed him before. “I understand your pain, better than most.”
“You think I shouldn’t kill her?” snarled Caleb.
“No, I would not say that.” Gracchus had killed the creatures who took his mate away from him; he would not deny this male the same vengeance. Gracchus softened his tone. “But she is not worth your own life.”
Caleb met his eyes, and they shared a moment of understanding of the pain they had both felt. But it wasn’t enough.
“I have no life,” muttered Caleb.
Even to Gracchus, everything seemed to happen at once. Caleb roared, and the beast exploded from his body. He dove at Marsters, and she screamed, firing her gun wildly. The thuds and growls meant that she had hit him more than once. By the time Gracchus and Colt managed to pull him away from her, she was dead – her throat ripped out, while Caleb was bleeding profusely from the chest.
