When he opened his eyes, he said, “Ricard blames it all on me. He has been hunting me since this happened.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Danton felt a pang of sympathy for his new boss. He hadn’t chosen immortality; it had been thrust upon him.
Did everyone have their own curse to endure?
“It’s been decades since I last evaded Ricard’s pursuit,” Michel added. “But what are decades in the life of an immortal?”
Danton grunted in acknowledgment. Although gargoyles lived longer than a human lifespan, they weren’t immortal.
“How about a drink before—well—before you take your positions?” Michel posed.
The sudden lightness to his tone and forced smile indicated he was trying to shift the mood. Or, maybe crawl out before falling into the despair that threatened to drag him down.
Danton glanced at a clock. “Sure. We have about an hour left.”
An hour before the stone would claim them in this strange, new world.
“Good.” Michel pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Would you like a glass of this or something else?”
All three opted for the whiskey. Michel poured them glasses and then raised his own. “Santé.”
After they drank, Michel said, “The staff should be arriving in a couple of hours. You should find a comfortable spot with a good vantage point before then to avoid any awkward explanations.”
Danton agreed with a curt nod. “Understood.”
“I’ll be in my office upstairs if you need anything.” Michel motioned to the bottles behind the bar. “Help yourself to another drink or two before you take your positions. After all, gargoyle tolerance to alcohol is legendary.”
“Merci,” Mattias said with a boyish grin. “I could use a beer—or twenty—before we start the shift. I can’t imagine what we’re in for.”
One side of Michel’s mouth curled with a ghost of a smile. “It’s quiet now, but will get livelier as the night goes on. I promise it’s not so dead in here.” His brows quirked.
Vampire humor. Danton resisted a groan. At least, it was a sign that their new boss had a sense of humor. Suave, yes. That was conveyed in his every action.
Michel offered and then poured them each a glass of beer. Then he walked out of the main area of the club with the same unhurried gait characteristic of his smooth motions.
Danton pulled his gaze back to his brothers and prepared for his final moments with the freedom to move at will. He and his brothers took a beer with them and wandered around the club, searching for the optimal vantage point.
Danton chose a spot at the end of the bar, which he guessed would be busy with activity. Mattias selected a spot across the room. Lucan picked a spot perched up higher on the wall. Their final minutes in human form dwindled away, and they moved into position. Danton’s body tightened and hardened as the curse took command. He shifted to stone form and waited.
Waited for what, he wasn’t sure. Michel had warned them to watch for the unexpected.
Mattias
It took a few weeks for Mattias to adjust to his new way of life at Vamps. It was as different as he could imagine from standing watch outdoors.
The positives included a view of beautiful women dancing in miniscule outfits. That’s what he forced himself to do, search for the positives and present that outlook to his brothers. They were cursed, but not dead.
He tried to find ways to remain upbeat. No need to brood, like Lucan, or put faith into an untested idea, like Danton, believing that a mate would free them.
On his third Friday night, a gothic siren caught his attention. She peered up at him from the dance floor. It was strange whenever someone did that. Her expression turned curious, as if wondering if she was being watched. After a few more seconds, she pulled her gaze away and returned to dance.
I’d go for the one with the cleavage falling out of her leather bodice, Mattias communicated to his brothers.
One of the ways they coped with the long hours on watch was noting who they would pursue if they were free to move about the club.
Lucan murmured in agreement. Very nice. I’m claiming the redhead with the long legs in the naughty schoolgirl outfit.
The vixen wearing the skintight bodysuit. Danton moaned. Perfection.
It was all a fantasy. They could only watch. Still—it wasn’t a bad view. It wasn’t a bad gig, either. When it was open, the club was a bustle of entertaining activity.
The DJ, Mistress Mona, often played some older crowd favorites early in the night, like Depeche Mode or Siouxie Sioux and the Banshees. After more patrons arrived and packed onto the dance floor, she’d play remixes of songs he didn’t recognize. When the beat quickened, it entranced the crowd. Their bodies followed along, movements accelerating as they responded to the faster call.
That night, she mixed in the Cure’s The Forest, and the crowd reacted favorably. They appeared to throw themselves blindly into the trance of the song. Mattias yearned to respond to the music as well. Being unable to even tap his feet along to the beat could drive him mad with frustration.
Mattias redirected himself to listen. He hummed along with the tune in his head. The music enchanted him, carrying him to a different place while his body remained locked in stone. In the club, the music was loud, energetic, and entrancing, as wild and foreign to him as this new country. He appreciated the strange nuances and picked up on the different styles.
He began to sing along in his head. After a few verses, he projected his voice to his brothers, encouraging them to join in.
Here he goes again. Danton chuckled.
I swear your bones are made of instruments and musical notes cascade through your blood, Lucan added. He’d been saying that since they were young, saying Mattias never stopped humming or drumming out some kind of tune only he heard.
We all need a distraction to keep us sane, Mattias replied.
When the music ended and the club turned quiet, that’s when his thoughts turned bleak. Like the dark walls closing in, they threatened to suffocate him. He kept this side of himself from his brothers. What worked best to distract him was music. Recalling lyrics and sounds soothed him. Music was the salve to the smothering claustrophobia of the curse.
At least he had a purpose here—to protect. Although he was chained to his stone, drunken fools hopped up on too much bravado and testosterone often instigated his instinct to shift.
Tonight, it appeared to be a man who in pursuit of an uninterested blonde with purple-streaked hair. She evaded his attempts a few times, and then complained to a bouncer. When the bouncer attempted to intervene, the man appeared to sweet talk him and let him remain in the club.
Something’s off with this situation. Looks like we need to intervene, Mattias communicated to his brothers.
Mattias cloaked himself before shifting to human form, leaving his stone shell behind. He joined Danton and Lucan backstage where they quickly dressed in clothes they’d stashed back there. Returning to the club, Mattias tracked the offender who continued to bother the woman. His scent revealed his true nature.
Incubus. A demon who fed off human energy, mostly through sex.
“You’re done tonight,” Mattias said.
“Who the hell are you?” The incubus glared.
Danton stepped before him. “Security. It’s time you leave.”
Mattias took one of the incubus’s arms and Lucan the other. Since they each stood about six-and-a-half feet tall, they towered over the demon’s six foot-frame as well as the rest of the people in the club.
The incubus attempted to brush off their hold. His eyes widened with surprise when he couldn’t. “What the fuck?” He glanced from one of them to the other. “Where do they recruit you from—steroid city?” He sneered at his poor joke. Then he sniffed. “Oh, I see.”
Mattias and Lucan dragged him out. The incubus attempted to impede their progress by dragging his feet, but his weight did little to slow the gargoyles.
Once outside t
he club, the bite of a cold winter’s wind whipped at Mattias’s face.
Danton said, “Do not come to this club again and attempt to feed on those who are uninterested.”
“Oh, come on, we were just having a little fun,” the incubus protested. “I didn’t use any of my magic on her. She was simply playing hard-to-get.”
Lucan snorted. “You understand women even less than I do.”
The incubus sneered. “This is the first time I’ve run into gargoyle guards at a club.”
“Now that we’ve been introduced, we’ll be on watch for you,” Mattias promised with a cold grin. He and Lucan released the man.
“Fuck.” The incubus spat on the ground and stalked away.
Mattias watched the man disappear up the alley. “Not bad for a night’s work.”
For a cursed shifter, this wasn’t a bad way to cope.
For now.
A voice inside questioned how long it would last before the novelty faded. How long could he endure this curse before despair swallowed him and he turned forever lost?
Lucan
Although Lucan had misgivings before he and his brothers had left France, coming to America to guard at Vamps had been a good move. It forced him to stop his pursuit of the witch who’d cursed him. Danton and Mattias were right; each attempt to find her had taken its toll.
In addition to the intense head pain and mind fog, memories of her had morphed into mist. By the time they left France, he only recalled a woman had wronged him, but he could no longer remember her name or what she looked like.
He had to abandon the hunt when he’d crossed the ocean. It would be futile to seek out a shadowy memory from a different continent.
Weeks after their arrival, a woman with wavy black hair and wide, almond-shaped eyes entered Vamps. Her voluptuous figure was wrapped in an amethyst laced-corset and fitted latex skirt. He didn’t recognize her, but something about her rang as familiar.
Lucan tracked her movements through the club, certain that something was off. Several songs later, she found a male companion. Luring him out onto the dance floor, she seduced him with slow, sinuous movements that captivated the fool.
But, not Lucan. He sensed something more was in play than desire.
When a spotlight caught her eyes, he discerned it. She wasn’t human. She was a vampire.
And this human was in trouble.
When she led her companion out of the club, Lucan was able to shift to winged gargoyle form and cloak himself from human eyes. Considering the gargoyle magic allowed him to shift, it confirmed his instincts that the vampire was a threat.
Vampire. She’s leaving now with that man with the blue tips in his hair.
Lucan rushed to follow her. He jostled some people as he headed for the exit, triggering some odd looks when they glanced to see who’d bumped into them.
Once outside, he extended his wings and soared over the area, searching for the vampire and man. Where had they gone?
The gray winged forms of Danton and Mattias flew closer, and they soon joined Lucan. They separated to expand their search and flew in a circle outward from Vamps.
He spotted movement in the graveyard and descended to get a closer look. Sure enough, it was the vampire and the man, and she was drinking from his throat.
Lucan swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. Vile bloodsucker.
She’s at the graveyard, feeding on him, he told his brothers.
Typical bloodsucker, Mattias replied. I’m on the way.
Me, too, Danton added.
Lucan soared down and knocked the woman off her prey before she left him a drained husk of dried flesh. Blood dropped from her fangs, spraying across tombstones.
The magic that cloaked him fell away on impact. It was almost impossible to keep it engaged during a fight, not that it would have worked on a supernatural being like the vamp. The way the man whimpered and crouched, shielding himself with his forearms, indicated he’d likely seen Lucan’s gargoyle form.
The vampire narrowed her eyes at him and hissed. Her eyes glowed red with rage—furious red rage. A similar episode flashed in his mind—a woman glared at him with enough fury to kill.
Or, curse.
The fuzzy edges of Lucan’s memories sharpened as if a veil had been lifted off his brain. He had known a woman like that once long ago. A woman who looked similar to this vampire. But, she was a witch.
After the vampire jumped into an aggressive crouching stance, Lucan shouted to the man. “Go!”
The man stumbled and pressed his hands to his bloodied neck. Mattias arrived and helped the man, who appeared pale and confused.
Lucan’s gaze narrowed on the vampire, who bounced from one foot to the other as if readying to strike.
“I wouldn’t try it, Vamp,” Lucan warned. His heart pumped and muscles twitched, ready to engage his opponent.
“As if I’d fear a gargoyle.” She sneered. “Slow as stone.”
She lunged for him with fangs and claws bared. With her vampire speed, she sliced his upper arm. He barely had time to fend her off before her fangs pierced his neck.
After he evaded her attack, Lucan forced himself to ignore the pain in his arm to lift her. He hurled her at a tree. A vampire might have had the advantage of speed, but gargoyles had strength.
Her back crashed against the bark. She moaned and crumbled. Lucan caught his breath and he eyed his opponent. It wouldn’t stop her for long.
He glanced at the wound inflicted by her horrid claws. It was mostly superficial, but the scent of blood would only increase her lust for more.
The vampire climbed back to her feet. And then lunged for Lucan.
They tussled in a similar pattern for several more rounds. She’d rear forward, aiming for his throat, and he’d toss her across the graveyard.
Mattias and Danton finally arrived and stepped to either side of Lucan.
“You’re outnumbered,” Lucan declared. “I’ll give you one warning—leave.”
With the hunger for blood and violence raging in her red glowing eyes, Lucan sensed she wouldn’t back down. Ever.
She pulled her battered body back to an upright position, stepping from side to side as she appeared to gauge her opponent for a weakness.
While she reared for another attack on Lucan, his brothers swooped in to defend him. Lucan reached up to the tree overhead and tore off a branch. She flew up to evade his brothers. When she soared down toward Lucan, he hoisted the branch at an angle and pierced her torso.
She shrieked and fell to the earth. He removed the bloodied branch from her chest cavity and then plunged it back into her heart.
The vamp hissed as her body convulsed and began to sizzle. Smoke drifted from the wound as her hate-filled eyes stared up at the stars. And then into nothingness.
No life remained.
Her smoldering body turned the air fetid and rotten. Lucan stepped closer to her decaying corpse and flinched at the stench. He held his breath and bent to lift what was left of her. He threw her past the graves, well into the ocean.
He stared at the sea’s surface for signs she’d regenerate. It was unlikely considering how her body burned to ashes, but he had to make sure she wouldn’t slink out like some sea serpent and seek revenge.
After he felt comfortable she was gone for good, he turned back to his brothers and smirked. “At least it ended up being an easy clean-up.”
Mattias chuckled. “What a courteous creature of the night.”
A sharp pang in Lucan’s head made him fall forward. He clutched his temples.
“What’s wrong, Lucan?” Mattias rushed to Lucan’s side.
The picture of a woman was forming, like a shape from sea foam. It looked like the vampire he’d just killed.
No, it wasn’t her. It was the witch with the same fury in her eyes that he’d started to remember.
In between quickened breaths, he uttered, “I’m remembering something.”
The witch also had long dark hair and a
voluptuous figure. Lucan had touched her curves, explored all the secrets parts of her when they had met in secrecy—in the forest, beneath the waterfall, within a cave. They’d even swam naked together in a lake and afterward he’d covered her body with his along the water’s edge.
“What do you see?” Danton asked.
The pain in his head contorted as more images rushed through Lucan’s mind. It was as if they were being yanked from the darkness that had been implanted there and the darkness wouldn’t free them without a fight.
The memory survived and revealed itself to Lucan. After he’d rebuffed her, she’d taken it badly, following him back to where he’d met up with his brothers. Her face was etched with fury, eyes burning with vengeance. She’d hurled a ball of dark magic at him, the dark threads expanding as it had flown, and capturing him like in a spider’s web.
The pain ebbed away. Lucan took deep breaths to control his racing heartbeat.
How could he ever have touched such a vile creature? How could he have been blind to one who was so malevolent in her core?
Beauty could be distracting, masking pure ugliness inside.
He remembered her face. And now, he knew the name of the witch who had cursed them.
Veronique.
He attempted to control his racing breath. “I remember.”
“Remember what?” Danton asked.
“Everything I’ve forgotten about the witch who cursed us. I can now picture her face. Her name was Veronique.”
Danton and Mattias exchanged a wary glance. Understandably. Lucan had been consumed with his search.
Mattias faced Lucan. “Why do you think you’d remember now?”
The familiarity had struck him. “Something about that vamp reminded me of her.”
“Veronique had been fading in your mind, correct?” Danton asked. “Much more so than with Mattias and me.”
“Right,” Lucan replied. “I’d forgotten what she looked like. She probably cast a spell to prevent us from finding her.”
CURSED (a gargoyle shifter story): A prequel in the Underground Encounters series Page 4