"I could fight you for her," Force suggested.
"Wait. What?" I shouted before Morris could weigh in. "Are you insane? You can't do that."
"Why not?" he murmured, his gaze still riveted on his rival.
"Because it's insulting to me," I exploded. "Morris doesn't own me. And neither do you."
"Then I'll pay off your debt," he decided and checked my face. "Am I allowed to do that?"
Was he allowed to do that? I pulled in a deep breath and thought about it. He was giving me an out. And I wanted to take it. But I knew he didn't have any money. And while I was dithering, he took my hesitation as acceptance and lifted an eyebrow as he moved his questioning gaze to Morris.
Morris snorted. "You got a thousand dollars on you?"
"A thousand dollars!" I shouted, spinning to face Morris, my fists knotted at my sides. "That's ridiculous!"
He just gave me a cocky look. "Don't sell yourself short, Camie."
"He doesn't have that much money!" I yelled. "I don't have that much money."
"I know," Morris answered, his smirk getting wider and more annoying. "But I don't really mind if he can't pay me. And I won't take less than a thousand."
I expected Force to back me up. I expected him to say something about that being a pretty damn expensive drive to Boulder. But Force didn't do that. Nope. In fact, while Morris and I were arguing, he reached back and pulled his sword from his baldric. Without even blinking, he held the weapon in two hands and offered it up to Morris.
I gasped. "Y-you can't do that," I squeaked.
"Why not?" Force asked.
"B-because! Because that sword is worth a lot more than a thousand dollars. It's ancient. It belongs in a museum. The sheath alone is probably worth several thousand. Wh-why don't you offer him that first?"
Force gave me a scornful look. "I might do that if I was trading for a horse. But you don't barter when you're buying a lass's honor."
I lifted my gaze to his face and searched his eyes. "But…but I'm not worth that much, Force."
"You are to me," he answered quietly. "You're worth that much, and more."
And since I couldn't get him to see sense, I turned to Morris. "C'mon, Morris. You can't take his sword. It's the most important thing in his life."
"No, it isn't," Force cut in. "Not anymore."
I searched his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You're the most important thing in my life, now."
"But, Force. It's your sword. Made of…made of Folgers steel."
"Forged steel," he corrected me, rolling his shoulders in one of those offhand shrugs that look so good on him. "What can I do with a sword anyhow? Only hurt and maim and kill. I'd far rather use it this way."
"I'll take the sword," Morris cut in brusquely like he was tired of listening to us argue. And maybe like he realized I might be right and it might be worth a fortune.
I wasn't ready for that. "What! No, Morris, you can't do this."
"Sorry girl," he said with a grin. "Me and your man made a deal."
"He's not my man!" I shouted as Morris started across the room with Force's sword. "We're just friends."
"I don't think you're going to find anyone who believes that," Force murmured from behind me.
That just made me mad. "You shouldn't have done that," I shouted, spinning to face him as the door closed behind Morris. "What were you thinking? What were you doing?"
"Defending your honor," Force answered with another shrug of his wide shoulders.
"That's lame," I told him, point-blank. "Nobody does that nowadays."
"I noticed that," he admitted and got this thoughtful look on his face. "I also noticed that there isn't much need for a sword nowadays. I'm never going to use it in battle. It's nothing more than a boyhood toy, really. And now that I think about it, giving up my blade for a damsel in distress is sort of a knightly thing to do, don't you agree? Might be the closest I can ever come to achieving my boyhood dream."
"A knight," I whispered, wondering if this guy had been reading my mind all along…as well as going around noticing things that everyone else took for granted. My shoulders slumped and all of the fight went out of me. "You're more than a knight," I sighed.
"Am I?" he asked, closing the distance between us in two long strides. When he reached me, he claimed my waist and pulled me close.
"You're a dream come true," I told him, going up on my toes to brush my lips across his mouth. "And I'll…pay you back. Somehow."
"Aye," he agreed, his eyes glinting with humor. "You'll pay me back."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, laughing up at him.
He jerked his chin toward the door Morris had just left through. "It means that whatever you owed him, now you owe the same to me."
I covered my face with my hands and peeked out at him from between my fingers. "I can't believe you're gonna hold me to that promise."
He lifted one golden eyebrow and grinned back at me. "You'd better believe it."
"Okay," I moaned, feeling awkward and embarrassed that we were even discussing the topic. "I'll keep my promise. I always do. But you might have to wait a while."
"Sometimes it takes time to keep your promises," he allowed.
"Can you wait 'til…I'm ready?" I asked, chewing on my bottom lip.
He reached for my face and cupped my chin in his hands. "I can wait until then," he said softly, touching his lips to mine. "I can wait as long as it takes."
And for the next long moments, we stood together with our bodies pressed close while our lips were locked in a hot, seeking kiss, exploring the whole idea of romance, love and more. Eventually, I was the one who pulled away.
"I'll probably want you to know something about me before I'll be ready," I teased him breathlessly, tilting my head and watching his mouth.
"I know a lot about you," he claimed, looking insulted.
"Like what?"
"I know that you're kind and generous and thoughtful. I know that you like to read. Romances in particular. But that doesn't mean you're not smart."
"What?" I exclaimed, getting ready to be insulted.
But he wisely hurried on. "You're brave and can run faster than almost anyone I know. And by the way, you look beautiful in a skirt. When you laugh, you laugh in phrases. When you get mad, your nose wrinkles up. I know everything about you."
"I bet you don't know my full name."
"Your name is Camie White."
"Yeah, but I bet you don't know what Camie stands for," I said, pulling out my old standard conditional requirement and dusting it off for this new threat to my virginity.
His head tilted backward and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "How dumb do you think I am?"
"Uh. As…dumb as all of the other guys I've ever known?"
His eyes narrowed and he gave me a shrewd look. "I think you've underestimated me," he said. "Again."
I swallowed hard, feeling like I'd backed myself into a corner. He looked so confident. But c'mon. How could he know? I mean, he was from a different country. He was from a different century! He didn't know that much about my family. My history.
He pulled me over to the counter and took a seat on the barstool. There, he captured both of my hands in his as he gazed into my eyes. "You said your father gave you your name," he said, feeling his way along but looking pretty sure of himself.
"That's…right," I answered cautiously, surprised that he remembered that little fact.
"And I'm guessing he named your brother too."
At that point, I knew I was in trouble. I could tell where this conversation was going and I realized that he had to know. He had to know what my name meant. And I wondered how I ever thought this guy was all-beef-no-brains.
"And I know your father loves you," he continued.
"So you say," I managed to choke out like I didn't know what was coming next.
"So I'm guessing he named his children after the thing he loves next best in life."
At that poi
nt, I have to admit my jaw dropped.
"He loves cars, especially Camaros. So he named your brother Chevy and he named you Camaro. Camaro White. After his race car."
And for the next several seconds, I just stared up at him. He was my knight. He was my silly-schoolgirl-romantic-dream-come-true. He was everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend or a best friend and…even though we were young…I was pretty sure he always would be. So I cleared my throat and gripped his shoulders, lifting up on my toes to reach his mouth. "Force," I whispered against his lips.
"Aye?" he murmured, his breath washing warmly across my skin.
I brushed my mouth against his and said, "I think I'm ready now."
Epilogue
It's funny. All my life, I only thought in terms of me. How I was gonna put me through college. How I was gonna find me a good job and (probably) support myself for the rest of my life. Now there's something else in my life. Now there's a someone else. Now my life includes an us as well as a me. And for some reason that whole idea of us is stronger and bigger and more important than anything I've ever known. It's a nice feeling.
But don't get all excited because nothing happened at my apartment that day when Morris left with Force's sword. It might have happened except that Force's family showed up before we could get anything going. They'd been waiting outside and were supposed to stay put until Force gave them a sign at the window. But when they saw Morris come out of the apartment block with Force's sword, they assumed the worst. They came charging up the stairs and into the apartment without any warning at all, surprising both of us…not to mention Morris who they'd dragged along with them.
Then there were a lot of apologies to get out of the way when they realized Morris had neither killed anyone nor stolen the sword. But Morris was so shaken by that time, (probably because he got an idea of how strong the guys are) that he insisted on returning the sword. And Force insisted that he take the knife instead (which Force didn't want anymore since Rafe had used it to cut me). So the two guys parted on good terms. And I ended up with an apartment full of people I didn't know what to do with so I cooked them all a big midday meal. And that chicken and roast my dad had brought home a week earlier came in handy.
Since then, I've learned a few more things about the pack, like there are three more gargoyles living in the foothills south of Denver with Defiance (Valor, Dare and Havoc). Valor and Dare have found girlfriends (MacKenzie and Mim) and Havoc has "gone stone" because he promised to wait for some little girl to grow up. And I thought that was pretty sweet. Who wouldn't?
I got a tour of the house in Boulder, which is massive (the guys plan to live there together one day). And I helped Force pick out a bedroom because he'll be staying there while the pack looks for the last member of their family. The location isn't exactly ideal from my point of view. But Force said he'd strap on his latex gloves and fly over to see me every night. We're talking twenty-five miles. Pretty cute, huh?
After the tour, I'd been debriefed on Rafe's escape from the lab, the pack answering some of my questions and explaining that Rafe had escaped with a bottle of venom, taking off when he reached the parking lot. And when they said taking off, they meant taking off. As in flying. So, yeah, he had wings too, just like the gargoyles (even though Olivia was apparently wingless). Except Rafe's wings were ripped in four places where Force's sword had passed through his "vest". And he had a bottle of their venom. And the pack wasn't sure what kind of threat that represented but hoped Rafe would die before he could do anything with it (or before Olivia could get her hands on it).
But right now, the pack's main focus was finding Courage before either of the Olanders could track him down. So that's why Force and I were currently sitting on the steps in front of the house. We were waiting for everyone to assemble in the dining room and skype-in the guys from Pine Grove so we could talk about the pack's next move, the meeting having been scheduled on a day that Walker (who is MacKenzie's brother) would be out of the house.
While we were waiting, I was acting all chillax like I hadn't snagged one of the best-looking guys in the country and wasn't the luckiest girl alive. Because I was afraid if Force knew what a fangirl I was, he'd want to start looking for someone a little more independent.
"What do you think of the house?" I asked.
He looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "T'is a great, fine manor. Victor says the rental payments are going toward the purchase. So one day this place will be ours."
"That'll be nice," I said, thinking their home would look fabulous at Christmas, decorated with pine boughs and poinsettias and sparkling lights. But I'd find out in December because I planned to be there to see it.
Uh-huh, I wouldn't be going to Chicago this winter. I told my dad about the time Carl had hit me and his reaction had been about the same as Force's. I still love my mom as much as I ever did. That'll never change. What has changed is my feelings for my father. I can safely say that I love him more than I used to think I did. I hope that makes sense. All I know for sure is that more love is never a bad thing.
By this time I'd heard about how MacKenzie's stepfather had found the nine gargoyles in England and shipped them to the United States. Force, Chaos and Courage were in the last shipment but the truck carrying them had crashed and burned somewhere out on the plains of Colorado. Harpies had pulled the guys from the fire, saving Courage's life, which was good, and Courage had escaped their clutches which was better. But even though Chaos and Force had found their way home to the pack, nobody had seen Courage since the night of the fire.
"What happened to you after the harpy pulled you from the flames?" I asked Force.
"Motschka? She dropped me in a farmer's field where I lay for several months in my stone form. Eventually, I was discovered and ended up in Denver."
"When was that?"
"In the spring," he answered, lacing his fingers with mine and lifting them to his lips.
"So you'd been wandering around Denver for quite a while before I found you in that dumpster?"
"I was hungry when we found each other," he admitted.
When we found each other. I thought that was cute. Deep-sigh material, right?
"I'd been living off stale food that others had thrown away. So when you brought me those sandwiches…"
"You acted like you'd died and gone to heaven."
"I felt like I'd found heaven," he corrected me with a warm smile that reached all the way to my toes, making them curl.
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "So where did the shipping truck crash?"
"I don't know," he answered. "But the fields were flat so I guess it was somewhere east of Denver."
"Limon," called one of the guys from inside the house.
Honestly, I knew Chaos was only trying to help but I was never gonna get used to the gargoyles' super-hearing…or their super-eavesdropping.
"Limon?" I exclaimed. "The accident was in Limon?"
Force shrugged. "I guess so."
"Waaait a minute," I said, as certain past events started to fit together like puzzle pieces inside my head. "Just wait a minute. I was in Limon in the spring. Was that you I pulled out of that ravine?"
"Might have been," he answered, hiding a smile behind a handful of my fingers.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I was covered with mud and couldn't see but I could hear voices. And, as you know, I can sense things about people's personalities."
"And?"
"And the lass who pulled me from that ravine was an awful lot like you."
"Meaning?"
"Stubborn. Ambitious. Hot-headed."
"Is that all?" I asked, disappointed.
"Compassionate. Generous. Loyal."
"Yeah?" I questioned him with a wry smile.
"Aye," he answered. "So it might have been you."
"I guess you'll never know for sure," I joked and bumped him with my shoulder.
"Nay," he agreed. "But the lass was with a guy named Morr
is who had a truck…so I'm giving you credit for my resurrection."
"Thank you," I snickered.
"Thank you," he murmured, leaning close and rubbing his lips into mine. "Thanks for finding me. If it hadn't been for you, I might have been stuck there for the next eight centuries."
"Your family might have found you," I pointed out.
"I doubt it, the way I was tucked against the ravine wall, buried in mud."
"Maybe not," I agreed.
The sun burned down gloriously on the big semi-circle slab we sat on. Like a big cat, Force stretched out his legs and leaned back, propping his elbows on the stone behind him. "Tell me about your gift," he said.
"My gift?" I hedged.
"You said you were pretty good at reading people. And you said you flashed on Defiance. How does that work?"
I turned to face him. "Well. When I meet a person for the first time, I get a flash of insight into their character. I see the thing they most love or the thing they're most proud of. Sometimes, that momentary glimpse can tell me a lot about them. Sometimes, not so much."
He nodded slowly. "So when you flashed on me, you saw the night of my marking when my father gave me my sword."
"I guess so."
"I expect you'd see something different if you flashed on me today," he said with a quiet smile.
"Would I?"
"Aye," he whispered. "You'd see a young lass crouched by my side. We're in a small cell with bright lighting and she's staring at me like she can't figure out what's wrong."
Oh man. That was sweet. I turned my head quickly and rubbed the corner of my eye. Because I didn't want him to think I was overly sentimental. Not if I could help it.
"What would I see if I could flash on you?" he asked.
"Right now?"
"Right now," he answered with a nod.
I tilted my head into the sun and closed my eyes. "You'd see yourself, sitting in the corridor outside my apartment door. Your legs are stretched out and your feet are crossed at the ankles. When you see me, you roll up onto your feet and you say…"
"I need you," he finished for me.
"Actually, you said that you needed my help," I corrected him.
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