Love Bewitched (Gargoyle Night Guardians Book 3)

by Rosalie Redd

  “How do you have the strength to hold that shield?”

  “There’s still a little power left in my tank.” Victoria smiled.

  Wynne swallowed. “Well, we’re not out of trouble just yet.”

  She glanced around the room, searching for Gwawl, but the god had disappeared.

  Coward…

  The entrance doors, broken and askew, remained wide open. Several fae clamored over the damaged wood. Despite the gargoyles fighting in their midst, they were outnumbered.

  Damian emerged from the pack with a fae clutched in his hand. He tossed the dead creature to the side and ran to them. Tattered and torn, what remained of his shredded gloves hung from his hands.

  Victoria lowered the shield.

  “We need to leave. Grab my arm.” He held out his forearms.

  Wynne hesitated. “What about the others?”

  “I told them to dematerialize to the University of Chicago’s stone gargoyles.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Some have already left.”

  Wynne gripped his arm, and Victoria followed suit.

  Nodding toward the crates, Wynne asked, “Did you see those dark creatures?”

  “The ones that sprouted feet? Yep.” His lips thinned.

  She hated to ask but had to know. “What were they?”

  “When the crystal shattered, I felt a rip in my spark stone where the piece of my soul resides, and the little creature appeared.” He touched the round gem on his chest. “I think it’s a dark part of my soul.”

  Wynne’s muscles stiffened. “Great. Perfect. Just what we need.”

  A fae’s feral cry rang through the air. The creature launched itself toward them.

  “Time to go.” Damian dematerialized.

  Before she disappeared, Wynne stared one last time at the empty space where the crystal once resided and where Zain had sacrificed himself to save them all.

  CHAPTER 32

  Wynne clutched the sideboard to steady herself. The familiar scent of patchouli incense wafted into her senses, bringing a wave of tears to her eyes. She was home, but the only place she wanted to be was in Zain’s arms.

  Memories of their time together in his room reading from the book, talking about their pasts, and making love tightened her chest and stole her breath away. Never again would she see his sinfully sexy smile, his chipped tooth, or the glint in his hazel eyes. A tear slid over her lash and landed on her cheek.

  “Wynne? Mom?” Sasha rose from the couch, her trembling fingers covering her mouth.

  She bolted across the room and wrapped one arm around Wynne’s shoulder and the other around Victoria. “Oh, thank the goddess, you’re all right.”

  Sasha’s tight hug warmed Wynne on the inside. She returned the embrace then drew away. Her attention riveted on their mother.

  Despite her smile, dark circles rimmed Victoria’s eyes. She wobbled on her feet, but then Damian gripped her shoulders.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?” He escorted Victoria to the couch.

  She settled on the cushions next to Neira.

  Neira smiled. “Hi. Remember me? I’m still here.”

  A soft chuckle eased from Mom’s lips. “Naughty Neira. Good to see you, too.”

  Neira huffed, drew her feet onto the cushions, and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  Wynne tugged on Sasha’s arm. “Where’s the rest of that potion we made?”

  “Under the sideboard.” Sasha opened the door and withdrew a flask.

  Wynne grasped the potion and brought it to Victoria. She knelt next to the coffee table and offered the vial. “Mom, please, take this.”

  “Absolutely. I now have two very good reasons to live.” Mom’s warm smile graced her features.

  Sasha settled in the middle seat between Victoria and Neira.

  “You should feel better right away, but the potion will take a few hours to completely heal you.” Wynne uncorked the lid and handed the bottle to her mother. A thin pink mist escaped into the air, leaving a bubble over the opening. Victoria brought the vial to her lips.

  “Torno con ala pas.” Wynne whispered the spell, calling up all the learning she’d absorbed from the book.

  As her mother drank, the liquid in the bottle disappeared.

  Wynne’s knees shook as tension drained from her body. Her mother would be all right. “Mom, we have you back home. After all these years.”

  Victoria set the bottle on the table between several stacked books. Some remained open, others teetered on the brink of sliding onto the floor. She grasped Wynne’s hand. “Thank you, honey bear, but I’m so sorry I cost you the love of your life. Zain was a good fae. The absolute best.”

  The tears Wynne had fought so hard to contain welled in her eyes once again. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. The spot on her arm where his golden bracelet had once resided seemed as empty as her heart.

  Damian frowned and waved his hand. “Neira, get off the couch so Wynne can sit down.”

  Neira morphed into her feline form and hissed at him before leaping onto the sofa’s back.

  Wynne settled into the cushions, closed her eyes, and let out a long exhale. She had her mom home, but she’d left a big chunk of her heart in the Otherworld with a fae who’d sacrificed himself to save others. Who said all fae were evil?

  Sasha placed her arm around Wynne’s shoulders. “You did good, Wynne. Damian said you rescued twenty gargoyles. I knew you could do it.”

  Wynne glanced at Damian. “Are the gargoyles all right?”

  “From what I gathered through the mind link, yes.” A quirk tugged at his lip. “It’s tight quarters in the stone forms with the other gargoyles but come nightfall Drake can sort out places for the ones that returned.”

  Wynne glanced to the windows. A thin shaft of light penetrated through the crack between the curtains and tracked across the rug. Dust particles danced in the sun’s golden rays. Dusk would arrive soon.

  Her shoulders tightened. She peered at Damian. “You skipped out of your daytime post and risked your life to save me. I can never thank you enough. Will Drake punish you for not returning to your stone form?”

  Damian smiled. “Once he learns of the circumstances, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  A short growl burst from Neira, and her eyes sparked with mischief as if she disagreed with Damian’s assessment. Wynne couldn’t agree more. As long as she’d known Drake, he’d been a stickler for protocol. For Damian’s sake, she hoped she was wrong.

  Movement on the table caught Wynne’s attention. A cute little sprite peeked out from between a stack of books. She brought her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide. The tips of her beautiful wings quivered, and a shimmer of rainbow-colored sparkles fluttered around her.

  “A sprite,” Wynne whispered, a lightness lifting her spirit.

  “Oh, that’s Trixie.” Sasha held out her hand, and the little female stepped onto her palm. “She lives in the grandfather clock and helped me perfect the spell to send Damian to the Otherworld.”

  Trixie curtsied, her wings fluttering.

  Wynne smiled, thankful for the good luck charm. Having a sprite grace your home was something special indeed. She nodded in respect. “Pleased to meet you. I didn’t know we had a sprite living among us.”

  The little sprite nudged Sasha’s thumb and pointed at Victoria. “That’s our mom, Victoria—”

  “Hello Trixie, good to see you again.” Victoria held out her hand.

  The sprite’s wings vibrated as fast as a hummingbird, and she flew to Victoria’s open palm.

  Wynne blinked. “You know her?”

  Victoria smiled. “Of course, Trixie and I became friends years ago.”

  Sasha’s stomach growled. She rose from her seat. “There’s some leftover pizza in the kitchen. Anyone want some?”

  “I’m in.” Damian nodded.

  “That sounds wonderful. I haven’t had pizza in years.” Victoria raised her arm, and the little sprite jumped onto her shoulder. Mom slipp
ed her fingers into Sasha’s palm and stood.

  Sasha focused on Wynne. “You want any?”

  Wynne shook her head. “I could use some alone time.”

  Memories of Zain threatened to bring on a fresh round of tears, and she wanted time to grieve, by herself.

  A sad, knowing smile graced her sister’s lips. “Okay, I’ll check on you later and bring you something then.”

  As the three of them sauntered toward the hallway, the last of the sun’s rays disappeared along the rug.

  The muscles in Wynne’s shoulders tensed. Any moment, she’d freeze into her twice daily statue ritual.

  She rose to her feet.

  Inhaled a long breath.

  Released it.

  Nothing happened.

  The tiny hairs along her arm stood on end.

  “Sasha.” Wynne exhaled.

  At the room’s entrance, Sasha glanced over her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s dusk,” Wynne squeaked.

  Sasha’s eyes widened. “You’re not frozen.”

  Wynne shook her head. “No, I’m not. What do you think that means?”

  “You’re no longer—”

  A brilliant flash of light burst through the room.

  Wynne stepped back and covered her eyes. Her knee connected with the coffee table. A book slipped off the edge and landed on the rug with a soft plop.

  “I hope you had a bookmark to note your place.” Rhiannon’s soothing voice echoed around the room.

  Wynne gasped and glanced at the goddess.

  Rhiannon stood next to the fireplace. A long golden gown with sleeves that billowed at the cuffs draped from her elegant shoulders. Her dark hair curled along her arms, and a braid on either side of her temple dangled over her ears.

  Achos, her dragon-like constant companion, lay cradled in the crook of her arm. Smoke curled from his nostrils, and he rubbed his scaled snout along Rhiannon’s shoulder.

  “My goddess.” Damian bent to one knee and bowed his head.

  “Rhiannon,” Sasha and Victoria whispered in unison.

  Wynne’s pulse spiked, and she lowered her head. “My goddess, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

  “Wynne,” Sasha whispered loudly, “shouldn’t I say that?”

  A knot tightened in Wynne’s stomach. No longer head of household, Wynne had no right to speak directly to the goddess. Not when Sasha held that status and the privilege.

  “I’m sorry, my god—”

  “Let’s not worry about protocol, shall we?” Rhiannon waved her hand. “We have more pressing business to discuss. By the way, welcome back, Victoria.”

  Wynne dared a glance at the goddess. “How can we be of service?”

  The goddess set Achos on the ground. His attention zeroed in on Neira. She rose to all fours, her back arched, hair raised. A hiss burst from her.

  Achos growled, the deep rumble loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the mantel.

  Neira’s gaze narrowed. She bolted from the room, her claws digging into the rug, and then skittered over the polished wood floor. Achos’s long, forked tongue slipped from his lips, and his eyes sparked, as if with mirth.

  A long sigh eased from Rhiannon, and she strode toward Wynne. The slit in her gown revealed her long, elegant legs and a pair of bright red pumps.

  Wynne’s heart pounded, and she gripped the couch’s arm to steady herself.

  Rhiannon stopped mere inches from her. She trailed a finger down the side of Wynne’s cheek, and a sad smile graced her lipstick-red lips. “You’ve had such a rough time, dearest one, but you rescued twenty of my precious warriors from Gwawl’s grasp, destroying his horrible dark crystal in the process. You have more than made up for your past transgression. As a result, I have freed you from your curse.”

  “I’m free?” Wynne gasped. Her knees buckled, and Rhiannon grasped Wynne’s elbows, holding her steady.

  Smiling, Rhiannon released her hold. “Yes, you are, and I have a surprise for you.”

  The goddess motioned toward the fireplace. A tiny swirl started along the hearth. Bits of charcoal and a few unburned twigs swept into the current. The whirlpool grew and intensified then dissipated.

  Wynne’s heart skipped a beat, and tears stung her eyes. She blinked, unsure whether to believe the impossible.

  “Z…Zain,” she croaked.

  His eyes widened, and that beautiful, sexy smile of his broke across his face. He raced toward her and enveloped her in his embrace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and his unique musky scent swept into her senses, settling deep inside. She was home in his arms at last.

  Zain drew Wynne close, holding her tight against him. She belonged there by his side, and his chest expanded so much he thought his heart might explode. He couldn’t believe he was alive, much less with the woman he loved. Awareness of others in the room forced him to release her.

  She stroked her finger along his jaw. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and a happy smile tugged at her mouth. Gods, he couldn’t resist those plump lips. With all the love brimming in his soul, he gave her a tender kiss that quickly morphed into need so raw he couldn’t contain himself.

  Wynne threaded her fingers through his hair and dragged her nails along his scalp, holding him in place as she kissed him in return. After a long moment, he drew away and placed his forehead against hers.

  “Wynne…” He breathed.

  She furrowed her brow. “How are you here? You died…”

  “I suppose I should elaborate.” Rhiannon returned to the fireplace. Her gaze drifted to the trio still standing near the hallway. She motioned to them. “Come here. All of you.”

  Achos beat them there and jumped into her arms. He swiped his pointed tongue along her chin. The goddess ran her long, painted-red fingernails over the crowned scales on her pet’s back.

  Sasha joined her mother and Damian a few feet from their goddess. Her sister pointed at Zain and gave Wynne two thumbs-up.

  A stifled laugh burst from Wynne, and she leaned into Zain’s embrace. He tightened his grip on her waist and tugged her closer.

  “Before I begin, let me ask you something, Zain.” Rhiannon continued to stroke Achos. “Has your chest ever burned?”

  He flinched, and with his free hand, rubbed at the scar along his chest. Usually, even through the material, the hard bumps were discernible. Not now. His pulse thrummed in his veins. He jerked on the edge of his shirt and glanced at his chest. The disfigurement that once resided there no longer existed.

  “I don’t understand.” He peered at the goddess. “I used to have a scar, but it’s gone.”

  She laughed. “That’s because you’re human now.”

  He inhaled. “I am.”

  “Yes, you will live an ordinary lifespan until the day you die a normal, human death.” A flash of yellow flickered through Rhiannon’s eyes. “You see, I made a mistake. When you died back in 1925 and your soul ventured to the Otherworld, I snagged your spirit, but dropped it into the swirling mass of dark souls. I couldn’t find you and regretted my actions ever since. Instead of a fae, you should’ve become a gargoyle, and the scar that burned on your chest was where your spark stone should’ve resided.”

  Zain’s mind whirred with possibilities. “You mean, I was on the wrong team?”

  A rueful smile slid across Rhiannon’s lips. “Yes. You should’ve worked for me. I regret that, deeply.”

  Wynne’s grip tightened around his waist. “How did you find out?”

  “When Zain died once again, a tug on my heart drew me to investigate. I found his soul scattered among the ether.” Rhiannon’s gaze slid to Achos before flicking to him.

  “After my mistake, I couldn’t leave you there. So, I scooped you up, searched your soul for what you wanted most, and brought you here, to Wynne.”

  Zain’s heart pounded loud in his ears. Had he heard Rhiannon correctly? He rubbed his palm over his face and exhaled. “But don’t garg
oyles have to pass some sort of test in order to become human again?”

  Rhiannon nodded. “When you jumped into the crystal, you faced your past transgression and sacrificed yourself for another, passing your test.”

  “That’s fabulous news!” Sasha clapped her hands, and the others nodded.

  “The main question is,” Rhiannon raised an eyebrow, “Zain, how do you want to live your life?”

  He turned his attention to Wynne and cupped her chin in his palm. “I don’t have the right to ask, but I want to spend my life with you, if you’ll have me. Will you?”

  Wynne bit her lip, gnawing the plump flesh between her teeth. “You really want me?”

  He groaned, wanting to capture her lips with his yet again. “Of course, I do. Feisty, headstrong, beautiful witch, you bewitched me from the start.”

  She brushed a few strands of his hair between her fingers and toyed with the ends. “Kiss me, then.”

  He did as she requested, tugging her into his embrace and kissing her with all the passion in his heart.

  Sasha’s low, feminine whistle echoed around the room.

  He released Wynne but held her close. Her heated breaths warmed his cheek.

  “Congrats, man.” Damian slapped his hand on Zain’s shoulder.

  Zain met his prior enemy’s gaze.

  “I wish we could’ve worked together.” The gargoyle smiled and held out his palm.

  He accepted the offering with a firm grip. “Me, too. You gave me a run for my money, that’s for sure.”

  Damian released the handshake. “What do you plan to do now that you’re human?”

  Zain’s shoulders tensed. He had no idea. What skills did he have other than the ability to fight?

  Rhiannon chuckled softly. “I have a suggestion.”

  His attention riveted to the goddess. Gods, please, anything but the fighting ring.

  She smiled as she stroked Achos around the ears. “You have a wealth of knowledge about our enemy, the fae—the inner-workings of Gwawl’s army, their ranks, and their weaknesses. I’d like to hire you to council the gargoyles and document your experiences in the process. You do know how to read now, correct?”