Night Angel (Gargoyle Night Guardians Book 2)

by Rosalie Redd

  The witches’ compassion and fatigue weakened her knees, and Hannah slipped into the nearest kitchen chair before she fell.

  Sasha sat next to her and held her hand while Wynne poked, prodded, and studied her with every “say ah,” “breathe deep,” and “cough.”

  After she’d completed her examination, Wynne leaned against the table and crossed her arms. “The medicine I gave you seemed to help, but I don’t like that you still have a slight temperature and appear fatigued.”

  She dug through her purse and withdrew a small leather pouch. “I had a feeling this might happen, so I made you a cream. This one has fast healing ability. Should you notice any muscle pain or bleeding, apply this lotion directly onto the spot. Be careful though, too much can irritate the skin.”

  The hair along Hannah’s scalp tingled. “What kind of bleeding? Will random sores pop out on my skin like chickenpox or something?”

  “No, nothing like that, but the longer Marco’s hold on you persists, you might experience a nosebleed, bleeding cracked lips, or blood seeping from your fingernails.”

  “My fingernails?” Hannah glanced at her fingers, and visions of blood gushing from the tips raised goose bumps along her arms.

  “Hannah. Don’t worry. I don’t sense that will occur, but I want to be on the safe side.” Wynne offered the pouch. “Continue to take the other medication every few hours, as we discussed.”

  With a bitterness coating the back of her throat, Hannah accepted the gift. She tugged open the string, studied the green paste within the leather, then shoved the small bag in her jeans pocket.

  Would she be able to escape Marco? A chilling prickle tracked up her spine. There was only so much the witches could do to help her. “Thank you for looking out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you both or Seth.”

  Her cheeks heated at the sound of his name coming from her lips. The thought of him calmed her fears, but for so long, she’d kept her interest in him a secret even from her two closest new friends. Now, though, questions about him burned in her mind, and she blurted the words before she lost her nerve.

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “Seth?” Wynne raised her eyebrows. “Our cowboy?”

  Hannah nodded. “Yeah.”

  Sasha giggled. “Oh, Hannah, you have a crush on him, don’t you? That’s so sweet.”

  Hannah’s cheeks flamed hotter. “Well, I’m just curious. That’s all.”

  “Uh-huh. I know how it is. He’s one fine looking male specimen, if you ask me.” Sasha winked.

  Wynne pulled out another chair and joined them at the table. “Sasha. He’s one of my charges. I wish you wouldn’t talk about him that way.”

  “Why not?” Sasha narrowed her gaze at her sister. “You used to be all googly-eyed over Beaumont.”

  Wynne pursed her mouth. “That was a while ago. Not anymore. Now, I’ve sworn off men.”

  “Yeah, until the next hottie comes along.” Sasha turned her attention to Hannah. “What do you know about Seth?”

  “He’s honorable and has been a gargoyle for a while. Finn was his best friend. I think there was someone special in his life, maybe a long time ago, but I’m not sure about now.”

  The lines around Wynne’s eyes softened. “You’re right about all of those things. He had a wife before he became a gargoyle. He never talks about her, but I’ve seen a sorrowful look in his eyes sometimes. Makes me wonder what happened.”

  Sasha straightened in the chair, and a white crystal on the end of a chain around her neck peeked from underneath her blouse. She shook her head. “Honey, you’re a sweet, innocent young thing. From what I know of Seth, he’d never hurt you, but he’s a gargoyle. On the rare night that he has off, I’ve heard rumors he frequents some of the dance clubs and bars. Likes the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

  Hannah fidgeted in her seat. She had no chance with Seth, but after their kiss, she’d let a small part of herself begin to hope for something special with him.

  Wynne clasped Hannah’s hand. “I can tell you from firsthand experience, don’t get involved with a gargoyle. It won’t end well. I don’t want to see you with a broken heart.”

  Might be too late for that already. Hannah drew her hand away and raised her chin. “I appreciate your concern…”

  “But?” Sasha toyed with the crystal at her throat.

  Hannah shrugged and shook her head.

  “Unfortunately, I have a long list of things to do today.” Wynne pushed away from the table and rose from her chair.

  “I’ll be outside for a few minutes reinforcing the wards. You,” she pointed at Hannah and then the cereal bowl, “finish that.”

  As if on command, the bowl slid across the tablecloth until it rested in front of Hannah. The spoon clanked against the inside, once, twice, three times, as if in irritation.

  “All right.” Hannah gripped the utensil, snagged a few soggy pieces and shoved them into her mouth. The nasty mush slid down her throat, but her stomach rumbled in thanks.

  After the front door rang down the hallway, a smile spread across Sasha’s face, and she leaned forward. “What you really want to know about Seth is—how good is he in bed—isn’t it?”

  Hannah held the spoonful of uneaten cereal midair. She tightened her fingers around the handle, and the milk jiggled in the spoon. “W…what?”

  Sasha glanced at the door before focusing on Hannah. “Wynne doesn’t know this, but a few years ago I slept with him once.”

  “You what?” A pang of jealousy lanced through Hannah.

  The spoon slipped from her fingers and landed in the bowl, sending a small wave over the lip. Milk spilled onto the table along with a few Rice Krispies. The cereal pieces floated on the milk river toward the edge but didn’t make it before succumbing to their soggy fate.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never dreamed of what it might be like to be with Seth. I can see it in your eyes. You’re crazy about him.” Sasha leaned back in her chair and fanned her fingers over her ample breast.

  “Seth is so very fine. You told me once you were a virgin. You picked a great choice for your first lover, and you won’t have to worry about catching anything nasty or getting pregnant from a gargoyle. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

  Heaviness settled onto Hannah’s shoulders. “I’ve always dreamed my first time would be with someone special, someone that cares about me or even loves me. But I’m not sure I’ll live past the next two nights.”

  Sasha waved her hand in the air. “Maybe Seth is the one for you. It doesn’t have to be about love to be special, you know. Besides, you and I both know you’re not going to die. You have your faith, and I’ve seen your fate in the stars.”

  Hannah’s pulse raced. “You have?”

  Sasha’s smile faded. Apprehension etched lines around her mouth. “Belief in yourself and others can accomplish great things, more than you may even realize. No matter how bleak life seems, never let doubt cloud your mind. Remember that, Hannah, okay?”

  Hannah’s throat constricted. Sasha’s words had left her unable to speak. She blinked away the hot, gummy tears that threatened to fall and nodded.

  The front door creaked open. A moment later, Wynne wandered into the kitchen. She untied the scarf around her neck and exhaled. “My, Hannah, that cat of yours can be such a pest, wanting to be stroked all the time. Distracting as the Otherworld. If he wasn’t so dang cute, I’d have zapped him with a spell.”

  Wynne wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Well, I fortified the perimeter. The wards should be good for another three months. Would you tell Beaumont when he and Sadie return from their trip?”

  “Absolutely.” Hannah rose from her seat and wrapped Wynne in a giant hug. “Thank you for watching out for me.”

  “Of course. My pleasure. Besides,” Wynne pulled back enough to stare into Hannah’s eyes, “in the few months that we’ve known each other, you’ve become one of my closest friends. I want to make sure you’
re safe so we can have more movies and popcorn nights.”

  A sensation of weightlessness removed some of the burden on Hannah’s shoulders. “With you, Sasha, and Seth on my side, Marco doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Wynne smiled. “That’s right. Not a chance this side of the Otherworld.” Her gaze slid to the window, and her smile faded. “Time to go, sis. We have a few more stops to make before nightfall.”

  Sasha rose and strode toward Hannah, her arms extended wide. “You stay safe, okay?”

  Hannah hugged Sasha. “Yep. It’s all good.”

  Wynne tied her scarf around her wrist. “If you need anything, reach out to Sasha or me. One of us should be able to help you.”

  “Thank you. Let me walk you to the—”

  Wynne held up her hand. “We can let ourselves out. I’d rather you finish that cereal and take the potion I gave you earlier. Don’t forget. Every four hours or so.”

  Even as Hannah sighed, the headache started at her temple once again. “I will.”

  As Sasha followed Wynne into the hallway, she peered at Hannah, winked, and whispered, “Remember what I said. Faith in yourself and others can work wonders.”

  Hannah believed in the virtue of the human spirit, but with an evil fae intent on stealing every ounce of goodness in her soul, would there be enough left to matter?

  She didn’t want to dwell on that or she’d end up wrapped in a ball of insecurity. Besides, the sketch of Beaumont and Sadie wouldn’t finish itself.

  With determination radiating from the inside, she finished the bowl of cereal and headed for her art room. The distraction might do her some good.

  She picked up her charcoal pencil and tried to focus on Sasha’s sage advice, but she couldn’t stop the apprehension creeping into her thoughts.

  CHAPTER 12

  Hannah brushed the charcoal over the page with long, firm strokes. Bits of the dark carbon filled in the lines in Seth’s hair and along the brim of his Stetson. While working on the portrait for Sadie and Beaumont, she’d thought about Seth. Before she knew it, she’d set aside the sketch for her sister, thank God it was almost done, and started on her new project using the charcoal Seth had given her.

  She stepped away from the easel and stared at the portrait. Seth, with his piercing eyes, sexy smile, and a dusting of stubble on his chin, peered at her with longing in his gaze. Oh, how she wished that look was directed at her.

  Over the past few months when he’d visited Beaumont, she’d seen him stare off into the distance with a similar yearning in his eyes. That look of reverence must’ve been for his deceased wife.

  Hannah shook her head and touched up a spot along one of Seth’s wings. Hannah had permitted her muse to take over, and her strokes had become fast and furious, the wings forming beneath her swift-moving pencil. She hadn’t intended to add them and didn’t know if he had wings, but she’d long ago learned to go with the flow when she entered her creative zone and allowed herself to draw whatever her muse whispered in her ear.

  A dull throb started at the base of her scalp, but she didn’t want to stop drawing, not now. While in the groove, nothing else mattered. She did her best work that way. A few more strokes along Seth’s nose and along the edge of his mouth should complete the portrait.

  Warmth filtered from deep inside, expanding in her chest. She’d captured his image the way she’d intended. Seth would like the picture, Hannah just knew it.

  A loud thump echoed down the hallway.

  Hannah stiffened and held her breath. Maybe Snookums knocked something off the coffee table or—

  She stepped to the window and peered through the glass. Dusk painted the surrounding trees in shades of gray. A streetlight winked on and cast a dull glow onto the sidewalk. Somehow, she’d lost track of time.

  Her heart pounded, and the dull throb grew more intense.

  Silence stretched on for several long moments. Even as her mind raced, she hung a thin sheet over the rods protruding from the easel’s frame, hiding the sketch but not touching the material and wiping away the charcoal from the picture.

  “Oh no. I forgot to take my medicine.” Hannah bolted from the art room and into the hallway. The muscles in Hannah’s legs ached from the effort to run, and unusual tiredness stalled the breath in her lungs.

  She rounded the corner of the living room, flicked on the light, and glanced at the side table holding George’s fishbowl. The green medicine bottle rested alongside the Beta’s food containers. Just as she’d thought, she’d left it there after feeding him that morning.

  Hannah wiped her mouth on a quick exhale. “Thank God, I found you.”

  “Why, thank ya, lass. Ya shouldn’t worry about me, but I appreciate yer concern nonetheless.” Finn stood next to the fireplace. Soot stained his red shirt at the shoulder and along one pant leg of his blue jeans.

  He wiped a black smudge from his cheek and smiled. “Good ta see ya again, Hannah.”

  She gripped the back of the couch. Her fingernails bit into the soft material.

  Stalling for time, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “The house is warded. How did you get in here?”

  He gazed around the room before focusing on her. The menacing smile that crested over his lips was one she’d never seen before coming from him, and the darkness in his eyes prickled the hairs at her nape.

  She tightened her grip on the couch, thankful for the small barrier between her and this fae.

  “Ah, well.” Finn inched toward her, hands flexing into fists at his side. “Seems Wynne forgot ta reinforce the ward on the chimney. Perhaps the lassie was distracted. In either case, ya did invite me in. So, I materialized down yer chimney. Seems I got a bit dirty along the way.”

  Hannah’s pulse ratcheted up another level. She slid toward the end of the couch, keeping distance between them. Her attention tracked to the fireplace poker, and her stomach clenched. No way could she reach it before him.

  A stack of mail rested on the sideboard. Nothing worthy to use as a weapon nearby.

  “Now, lass, don’t make me do this the hard way.” He edged toward her, held out his palm, and waggled his fingers in encouragement. “Come with me. Marco wants ta see ya again.”

  His eyes glowed an uncanny vibrant yellow.

  Energy, fast as lightning, propelled her toward the hallway.

  Her sneakers skidded on the parquet floor. She gripped the doorframe, but her momentum carried her into the wall.

  Pain ricocheted from her shoulder all the way to her fingertips.

  Finn tackled her, and her hipbone slammed against the hardwood floor along with her shoulder. Agony flared at the joints as his heavy weight pinned her to the ground. Her face plastered against the flat surface, she struggled beneath him, but he grasped her wrists and held her tight.

  “Calm yerself, lass. Fightin’ will only make it worse.” Finn’s heated breath blasted across her ear.

  “Let me go!” She strained under his weight, her heels beating against his thighs.

  The front door slammed against the wall, and a loud crack resounded.

  One sizable wood splinter landed just inches from Hannah’s nose and bounced on the floor.

  A moment later, a strong breeze ruffled Hannah’s hair, and Finn’s weight lifted.

  Glass shattered, and something heavy landed with a thud, shaking the ground.

  Hannah’s breath rushed from her. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, wrenched her head around, and peered into the living room.

  Like a blur, two males fought. They moved so fast, she couldn’t identify either, but she knew one had to be Finn.

  The couch crashed against the wall. One of its legs protruded from the cushion as if impaled. Shards of glass from the broken coffee tabletop lay scattered over the rug.

  Between the blurs, Hannah caught glimpses of the fighters. Red shirt. Dark hair. Finn.

  Brown leather jacket—

  A cowboy hat flew through the air and landed on the impaled
couch leg. The hat’s cord swayed back and forth from the impact.

  Hannah’s heart skipped a beat.

  Seth.

  The crack of a whip echoed against the walls, and hope fluttered in Hannah’s stomach.

  She searched for a weapon, and her gaze landed on the fireplace poker, which mysteriously still rested against the brick amid all the fighting. If she could sneak past both men and snatch it, she might be able to help Seth.

  Steeling herself, she inhaled a quick breath then stepped into the room.

  Seth cracked his whip. The barbed tips ripped across Finn’s chest, shredding the material and scoring the flesh. Blood spurted from the wound. An odorous, metallic scent filled the air.

  Finn bared his fangs and withdrew his dagger from its sheath. “Ya’re too far away. Come closer and find out what it’s like ta be bested by an Irishman.”

  “You’re the one that’ll die tonight.” As soon as the sun had set, Seth had materialized on Hannah’s lawn. He’d heard Finn’s threat through the cracks along the windowsill. Not wasting a moment, he’d burst through the doorway.

  Seeing Hannah pinned to the ground by Finn had sent a rush of energy through him so fast, white spots of anger had blurred his vision. Now, he faced his best-friend-turned-enemy. With a quick snap of his wrist, he sent the length of his whip toward Finn once again.

  The ends wrapped around Finn’s wrist. Seth tugged, and the dagger dislodged from the fae’s grip. The blade slipped from his palm and clattered to the floor.

  Finn gripped the whip with his free hand and yanked.

  Seth tightened the muscles in his legs, holding steady against the rebounding force that threatened to wrench him off balance. He hardened his jaw, and pain radiated up his face.

  Finn leapt over the couch’s destroyed remains. His gaze focused on something behind Seth, and a devious smile tugged at his lips.

  The scrape of metal against brick echoed from behind him.

  Icicles formed from dread skittered down Seth’s spine. He turned toward the fireplace.

  With fingers white from strain, Hannah gripped the fireplace poker. She raised the pointed tip over her head like a baseball bat. Determination etched lines around her pursed lips.