by N M Thorn
“Yes, sir. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow morning.” Damian scrambled to his feet and held out his hand for a handshake. “Thank you, Luc.”
Luc shook his hand and headed toward the exit. Stopping by the door, he turned to River, sending a reproachful gaze her way.
“Just for the record, Detective,” he said softly. “I never thought you were a delicate flower. I didn’t ask you to leave because I thought you couldn’t handle it. I asked you to leave because I thought Cole wouldn’t want you to see him like this.”
He bowed slightly and walked out the door, closing it behind himself with a soft thud.
Chapter 7
~ Damian Blake ~
By the time Damian woke up, the sun was blasting through the open window, and the scorching afternoon heat invaded his room. He cracked his eyes open, staring at the bright rectangle of light on the ceiling, and pulled his left arm across his chest, gently stretching it. The injury he had received the night before was gone, and he felt rested and refreshed after a full ten hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Damian sat up, lowering his feet to the floor. He didn’t recall having any nightmares while sleeping, and it made him wonder if it had been Mara after all who was tormenting him in his dreams. His mind flashed back to the last conversation he had with the Slavic goddess of Nightmares, her every word imprinted in his memory. He frowned, rubbing the edge of his bracelet as he stared down at the slithering lines of the tattoo on his right arm. Mara was right. She had no reason to cripple him with nightmares if she was counting on his help to find her way back home. Besides, she had helped him twice already.
Maybe she kept her promise to find whoever had been playing with my dreams and blocked them from entering my mind? The thought popped in his head, and he facepalmed at how ridiculous it sounded even to himself. Maybe Mara was gracious enough to help him twice, but dark deities weren’t known for their selfless deeds. They used others to get what they needed, giving back nothing or as little as possible. No, it couldn’t have been her. Then who and how?
“Finally! The first intelligent thought since you woke up,” a high-pitched voice peeped in his head, making him flinch and jump to his feet, staring around wildly. “It was me, of course. Who else?”
“What the hell?” Damian stood in the middle of the empty room. Even Gypsy was gone. The memory of the voice in his head warning him of the upcoming danger crossed his mind, and he added, “I’ve had enough of your games since yesterday. It’s time you showed yourself.”
“Aw, Commander, come on. My friend told me you were a smart man. This was one of the reasons I agreed to serve you. But so far you are doing everything to prove him wrong,” the voice spoke up, tones of humor ringing in his words. “Look at your right arm.”
Damian glanced at his arm and swallowed hard. His tattoo glowed with a soft blue light, the ink slithering slightly under his skin as if the vines were alive. He channeled a little bit of his magic and ran his fingers over the design, detecting a gentle energy signature that wasn’t his. It didn’t appear to be dark or evil. On the contrary, it felt warm and friendly.
“You’re getting warmer, Commander…” the voice sang in his head.
Yakov gave it to me. He said I needed it… It can’t be anything evil.
“Warmer…” The voice giggled.
“Dammit.” Damian threw his hands up. “Just show yourself, would yah?”
“Ew. You have such poor manners, Commander. Didn’t the Destiny Council teach you anything? I shall have a word with them the first chance I get.” Damian couldn’t see the owner of the voice, but he was positive the speaker was grinning from ear to ear, and that just added to his aggravation. “You forgot to say the magic word.”
“The magic word, huh?” Damian folded his arms over his chest, staring at the glowing tattoo with nothing but the worst intentions. “How about three magic words? Laser. Tattoo. Removal.” He held out three fingers.
“Ha-ha. Very funny. I’m bound to a comedian,” the voice grumbled, and an image of a cartoonish-looking dog rolling its round eyes flashed in Damian’s mind. “You know as well as I do, I’m not a tattoo. This ink is just a visual representation of the spell that binds us together.”
Next time I see Yakov, I’m going to kill him, Damian thought, his aggravation rising to a dangerously high level. Come to think of it, I should summon him right now and rip him a new one.
“A blood-thirsty comedian with the manners of a medieval peasant,” the voice summarized snidely. “I think I’m going to summon Yakov myself and ask him what he was thinking, talking me into serving an ogre.”
Realizing that this verbal battle could stretch on forever with no favorable outcome, Damian sat down on the bed and rested his arms on his lap, shaking his head. He took a deep, cleansing breath and said as peacefully as he could muster, “Please, show yourself. If you’re right, and indeed, we’re bound by a spell, let’s meet face-to-face and get to know each other better.”
“Aw, Commander,” the voice mumbled tearfully. “I’m touched. Are you asking me on a date?”
“I’ve had enough.” Damian got up and headed toward the bathroom.
He stripped everything off, throwing the dirty, torn clothes into a garbage can, and opened the faucet, waiting for the water to warm up. Yesterday, when he returned to his room after making sure his brother had completely recovered, he had been too drained to do anything else but sleep. So he’d dropped on the bed without undressing or taking the cover off, dead to the world in a matter of seconds.
Damian grabbed a fresh towel out of the cabinet and hung it on the handle of the shower door, ready to get in.
“Commander, turn around!” the voice shouted, causing him to flinch again.
Damian spun around, and his jaw fell to the floor. Right in front of him, reflected in the polished, white tiles, sat a German Shepherd puppy. He was no older than three-four months, judging by the looks of him. One of his black, furry ears stood straight up, but the second one was tilted to the side, resting against the first one. His round, black eyes stared at Damian with humorous twinkles, and a wide doggish grin stretched his muzzle, showing a long pink tongue.
The puppy shifted from paw to paw, his long, black tail brushing the floor from side to side eagerly. “Nice to meet you in person, Commander.”
Damian’s eyes widened, and he pressed his hand to his mouth, staring at the pup incredulously. Uhhh… Gypsy is going to kill me for bringing a dog into the house… He squatted and reached forward, patting the dog’s warm fur carefully.
“I knew as a Child of Earth you wouldn’t be able to resist my beauty and natural charm,” the puppy announced proudly, stepping closer.
Damian chuckled, warmth suffusing his chest. He took the dog with both hands to pick him up, but to his shock, he couldn’t move him even an inch. The puppy’s tiny body seemed to be as heavy as a ton of bricks.
“Oh, damn,” Damian mumbled as realization dawned on him. “I know what Yakov gave me. I know what you are…”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s hear it then.” The puppy’s grin grew wider.
“A gargoyle,” Damian replied, stifling his laughter. “You’re a gargoyle. I think Yakov gifted me a personal bodyguard.”
“Ding-ding-ding!” The puppy spun in place, chasing his tail. “Hallelujah! Not all is lost. There is some intelligent life inside that ungroomed head of yours after all, Commander.” He shook like a dog shaking water off his fur, and two large, webby wings expanded behind his back. Wagging his eyebrows, he added, “You like me. You really, really like me! Am I not awesome?”
Damian got up, laughing. “You are as awesome as gargoyles come.” He opened the shower door, glancing at the little monster over his shoulder. “Now, Mr. Awesomeness, as fun as all this is, I need to take a shower, and something tells me I have a busy day ahead. Can you hide back in that tattoo until we have more time for small talk?”
“Um… no can do.” The puppy folded his wings and tilted his head to the left, his softer e
ar flapping with his move. “Well, if you want to be in charge, you must complete the binding spell.”
“What?” Damian turned toward the gargoyle. “What do I have to do?”
“It’s simple.” The puppy waved his paw dismissively. “All you have to do is name me and seal it with—”
“If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I’m done with you, and you’re going back where you came from,” muttered Damian.
“Hmm… no, Commander,” replied the puppy with a sizable amount of sarcasm in his voice. “That wasn’t what I was going to say, but I do like your train of thought.” He hopped closer to Damian, staring up at him in that sweet doggish manner with his tail working like a fan. “I was going to say seal it with fresh ink, okay? Now, be nice. Can you give me a strong, powerful name? Like Bulat, Yakov’s gargoyle. Please, please, please…” The puppy danced in place. “Pretty please?”
Damian laughed softly and squatted to scratch the little dog behind his ear. “You got it, buddy,” he said, rising. “Give me a few minutes to take a shower and clear my mind. It’ll give me a chance to think of a strong name for you. Then we’ll go to the kitchen so I can introduce you to my family, and I’ll name you at that time. Deal?”
“I see,” the gargoyle murmured thoughtfully. “Now, I think I understand why humans take showers every day. When their brain gets dusty, they can’t even think of something as simple as a name.” He waved his paw, nodding approvingly. “In this case, take a nice, long shower, Commander.”
Damian stumbled, almost choking on the suppressed laughter. He nodded at the dog and finally stepped into the shower stall.
Thirty minutes later, Damian walked out of the shower but didn’t find the gargoyle where he had left him. Cursing quietly, he toweled his body dry, got dressed as quickly as he could and rushed out of the room. Halting by the doorway, he scanned the house with his other sight and detected the gargoyle’s energy signature somewhere around the kitchen area.
Cursing Yakov for his gift and all the gargoyles in the world, he ran into the kitchen. But as soon as he got there, he came to a screeching halt and pressed his hand to his mouth, flabbergasted. Cole was crouching on top of the kitchen table, his fangs fully expanded. Hissing in that eerie vampire’s way, he stared down at something. River stood by the refrigerator, tears of laugher glistening in her eyes. Jamie was next to her, a wide grin splitting his face.
Damian took a step forward and saw what the commotion was all about. The gargoyle, in his German Shepherd form but with the wings opened, was parading around the table with Gypsy riding proudly on his back, sitting between his wings. As soon as he saw Damian, the puppy rushed toward him.
“Gypsy, up.” Damian tapped his shoulder, gesturing for the cat to jump, putting all effort into keeping his laughter down. Gypsy gave him a reproachful gaze but hopped up, landing softly on his shoulder.
“Normally, I don’t like dogs,” she purred into his ear, rubbing against his cheek, “but I’ll make an exception for this one. He’s too cute to hate him.”
“Uh-huh,” murmured Damian. “He’s very cute in that lethal gargoyle way.” He switched his attention to his brother, laughter bubbling up in his chest again. “Cole, would you mind telling me what you are doing on top of the table, hissing like a wild cat?”
“Only after you tell me what moved you to bring a gargoyle into our home,” Cole hissed, raking him with an angry stare. “Tell your pet to stop harassing me, and I’ll gladly get off the table.”
Damian snorted, making his way to his brother. “He’s not my pet, Cole,” he said, throwing a stern glance at the puppy. “He’s my bodyguard, but unfortunately, until I name him, I can’t fully control him.”
“Commander, I’m innocent,” the puppy assured him, his black, round eyes flooded with guilt. “He’s a vampire, and he started it.”
“I don’t give a damn who started it. Cole is a vampire, but I’m sure your senses told you he’s not evil,” said Damian, folding his arms. “Besides, he’s my brother, so you better treat him well.”
A wide grin appeared on the gargoyle’s face. “I know he’s your brother, and of course I’ve detected that he’s as good as a vampire can be,” the puppy replied. “But I just couldn’t help it. I had to show him who’s the alpha male here. Besides, it’s in my nature, you know? It’s like when dogs bark at a mailman, or cats hunt birds.”
“Watch your tongue, dog,” purred Gypsy. “We queens don’t hunt. We have our meals delivered to us by peasants, fresh and ready to consume. Observe me carefully and learn how it’s done.”
She jumped off Damian’s shoulder and approached the refrigerator. Stretching her paws up against the door, she threw the sweetest glance at River and uttered the clearest meow Damian had ever heard from her. River petted Gypsy’s head and opened the cabinet, reaching for a can of cat food. She opened the can, put its contents on a plate and placed it on the floor in front of Gypsy.
“You see? And that’s how my regal nature works,” Gypsy said, getting busy with her food.
Damian clasped his hand over his mouth, realizing that besides the gargoyle, he was the only one in the room who knew exactly what had just happened. River sent a puzzled gaze his way, throwing her hands up.
“Dima, what’s up? What did I do?” she asked. “What did Gypsy say?”
“Nothing of any importance,” replied Damian, offering his hand to Cole, but the vampire glanced down at it irritably and jumped off the table. “I just need to name this gargoyle, so he doesn’t have to show Cole who’s the alpha male here.” Cole threw a scorching gaze at him, and Damian finally burst out laughing.
“Do I have to remind y’all that I’m the only alpha male in this house,” said River, placing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot. She pointed at Damian and Cole. “You two sit down and shut up.”
Cole and Damian exchanged a quick look and said, “Yes, ma’am.” Damian pulled a chair out and sat down, watching his brother do the same.
“Good boys,” River murmured, wild sparkles of laughter dancing in her eyes. She turned toward Jamie and pointed at an unoccupied chair. “Jamie, take a seat. Takeout should be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, I believe Damian has some naming to do, and then we need to discuss everything that happened yesterday.” She squatted in front of the puppy and petted its soft fur, her blue eyes sparkling with joy. Then she looked up at Damian with a guilty smile. “Dima, do you mind if I name him for you? I think I have the perfect name.”
Damian glanced at the gargoyle and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“When I was little, I had an old dog,” started River. “It used to belong to my mother…” She fell silent, a fleeting shadow of sadness crossing her face. “Anyway, playing with this dog was one of my earliest childhood memories. His name was Zhulik, so I thought… It’s kind of appropriate for this little guy. What do you think, Dima?”
Damian glanced at Cole, and they both laughed.
“Do you know what this word means in Russian?” Cole asked when he stopped laughing. “Even though I do think it’s appropriate for this little monster, I want to make sure you know the meaning.”
“Of course I do,” replied River, pressing her lips into a straight, reproachful line. “I don’t speak Russian, but my father explained the meaning of the name to me. It means swindler or a conman.”
“Commander, I like this name,” the gargoyle pleaded in Damian’s mind. “I want it.”
“You can have it,” replied Damian, surprised. “But you do realize this is not a name of power as you wanted earlier?”
The gargoyle approached River and sat down next to her feet, wagging his tail. “I know that... But it’s a name given with love, and I think love is more important than power.”
“So be it,” Damian concluded. He channeled some of his magic and ran his fingers over his tattoo. “Let’s make it official then. I name you Zhulik.”
The tattoo lit up with a bright bluish light, and Damian
hissed as pain shot through his arm. The design came to life, slithering and weaving under his skin, and a few more words in Dragon tongue materialized between the vines. He let go of his magic and took a deep breath, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“Why does everything to do with magic have to be so painful,” he mumbled and switched his attention to the gargoyle. “Now, Zhulik, I need you to go home.” He pointed at his tattoo. “The adults need to have a serious, uninterrupted conversation.”
“I am an adult,” grumbled the gargoyle. “For your information, I’m older than you and your blood-sucking brother put together. But fine… Since I’m supposed to obey all your commands, no matter the level of stupidity, I’ll do what you asked.” With a light pop, the winged German Shepherd vanished from the room, melting into the tattoo.
Damian sighed with relief and placed his arms on the table, leaning forward slightly. His eyes halted on Cole’s face for a moment, then slipped to Jamie and finally stopped on River.
“River is right,” he said, his fingers fidgeting with his bracelet. “We must have a serious conversation about what happened yesterday. Since it involves all of us in some way, I believe I must share the information I have.”
He quickly went over all the events that took place in the last twenty-four hours, including some parts of his conversation with Zabava he believed he could disclose without breaking his promise to her.
“Who’s this Zabava?” asked River dryly. “I want to meet her.”
“You will,” promised Damian, “but right now, I have something else to tell.” He pulled his phone out, staring at the picture on the lock screen a moment too long. Then he sighed and added, turning to his brother, “Cole, last night, I received a call from Ricardo that we’ve been expecting for a while.”
Cole got up slowly, moving his chair back with a loud screech. “Tell me he found Ruslan.”
“He believes so,” replied Damian, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach as he observed his brother’s reaction.