Gorgons and Gargoyles

by Judith Post

  Fur sprouted. Clothes ripped away. Corbin threw himself at the open doorway and bounced backward, sprawling on the front lawn. He lifted his head and shook it. Ally's bubble of protection was impossible to see. He blinked at the open door, then picked himself up and lunged for the house again. He hit the shield harder this time and bounced farther.

  Ally winced. "Good, he'll stop now. He knows the house is protected."

  But Corbin rammed the invisible barrier again. His snout snapped. Blood gushed, and he shook his head, disoriented. As Ally watched, his snout righted itself—a werewolf's healing powers. He stood, got his balance, and ran at them again.

  Dante started to the door to stop him.

  Ally grabbed the back of his T-shirt, pulling him toward her. "You can't help him right now. Let him wear himself out." Weres were almost as hard to kill as gargoyles. The shield was impenetrable, but soft and yielding. Let the Were hit it as many times as it took to use up his energy. Eventually, he'd realize he couldn't use brute force to enter the house.

  He bounced again, landing wrong this time, his leg under him. He pushed himself to his feet, a bone protruding from his fur. Tepo pressed his face into his mother's body.

  "Take him upstairs," Samuel told Hypos. "He shouldn't see this."

  What was wrong with the Were? Most shifters were fairly intelligent. When was he going to get the idea that his plan wasn't working? "This house is protected by magic!" Ally called out the door. "You can't pass it."

  Corbin stood, chest heaving, while his leg healed. His eyes glowed bright yellow. He'd totally lost control, but he still had survival instincts, right? He could stop beating himself up any time.

  Dante's hands balled into fists. "He's going to kill himself. If I knock him out, we can restrain him. Maybe find out what's wrong."

  "He could bite or scratch you."

  Dante moved toward the door. "He can't infect me. Gargoyles aren't wired like mortals."

  Duh! Like she didn't know that. "I'm not worried about his shifting you. But what's wrong with him? Did he catch a disease? Is he contagious?" Ally's heart ached for the Were, but her first concern was for Dante. He'd battled plenty of werewolves. That wasn't the problem. But this was different. Something was off.

  Corbin hit again. Bones crunched. His shoulders hung unevenly. He panted to suck in breath. Surely, he'd drop from exhaustion soon. Please drop, she silently begged.

  Dante tried to push past her. "Germs and viruses don't bother me."

  "They don't bother any supernatural, so what made him crazy? I smelled dark magic. Let me zap him." She didn't want Dante anywhere near the werewolf. "I'll stun him, then you can figure out what to do with him."

  But before she could drop the shield and raise her palms to blast him, Corbin lowered his head and raced at the protective bubble with every ounce of strength he had. Ally stared. She didn't want to watch, but it was like passing a car wreck. She couldn't pull her gaze away.

  He hit hard. His skull cracked. His neck snapped. He went down in a heap.

  Dante glared at her. He rushed through the shield to run to Corbin. "Hang in there, buddy. Ally has magic. She can heal you." But the werewolf shuddered. His eyes rolled so that only the whites showed, and his body reverted to mortal. Dead.

  Oh, crap. Why didn't he stop? Why did he keep at it, over and over again? She and Samuel went to stare down at Corbin, too. She stayed a short distance from Dante. How much would he hate her right now? How angry would he be?

  "What do you think happened to him?" Dante's voice was strained.

  She should have zapped his friend sooner, but she'd worried about releasing the shield. Werewolves are tough, hard to kill. She hadn't thought about him breaking his neck.

  Samuel shook his head. "I've never seen anything like this before."

  Neither had Ally. "Why wouldn't he stop? All he thought about was hurting you two."

  Dante wouldn't look at her. "We'll never know, will we? You didn't bind him in time."

  She hadn't thought of that. The slam hurt. Ally bit her bottom lip. She'd made a bad call. All she'd thought about was Dante and her friends. She should have done something to prevent this.

  Samuel frowned at Dante. "What the hell's wrong with you? Corbin meant to kill us. Ally didn't give him the chance. I, for one, appreciate that."

  Dante's jaw stiffened. His gray eyes glittered. He struggled a minute, then pushed to his feet. He was still upset, she could tell. He snapped, "Sorry. You're right. I just don't understand it."

  She went to stand closer to him. Any connection with her gargoyle made her feel better, safer. Her nearness eased him, too, she knew, but his posture was still tense.

  "Corbin is—was—a pretty easy-going werewolf," he said. "We've worked together before. He said that someone used our friendship. What does that mean?"

  Ally could only think of one thing. "I'd say someone used Corbin to get close enough to harm you." Sympathy for the dead man flooded her. He'd struggled against his mission, whatever it was. Guilt would eat at her for a while. "He said he was sorry. He didn't want to hurt you."

  Dante's broad shoulders stiffened. "Someone hurt Corbin to get to me."

  "And Samuel. He asked for him, too."

  Samuel shook his head. "If this is personal, it doesn't make sense. I've never worked with Corbin, didn't know him."

  "Maybe it's not personal." But what else would it be? Ally looked up at Dante. "You told me once that gargoyles are hard to kill. Could a werewolf kill you?"

  "Let's not go into that. I don't like it when you worry."

  "I'll worry more if I don't know the answer. What kills you?"

  "The same thing that's deadly for you."

  Oh, that. She stared. "Could a werewolf rip off your head?"

  Dante grimaced. "He could try. If he were a friend, and I didn't expect it, and he surprised me…." He glanced down at Corbin.

  Had that been the plan? Ally pressed her lips into a tight line.

  Dante hurried on to explain. "Our artist carved us out of marble. We have pretty sturdy builds. It wouldn't be easy."

  Ally thought of the Greek statues she'd seen with missing heads. It was definitely possible. She sighed.

  Dante shrugged away from her before she could pursue the question. He reached into his jeans pocket and took out his cell phone, anxious to tackle what needed done. He called one of his police friends on Summit City's force and explained what had happened. The police gave the four gargoyles as much room as they needed to deal with supernaturals who caused trouble in the area. When he flipped his cell shut, he said, "Once they do an autopsy, we'll know more. I'll be curious if someone drugged Corbin, and if they did, what the drug was."

  "And its effects." Corbin hadn't wanted to attack Dante, so why had he? Ally raised on tiptoe to kiss Dante's cheek. "I'll disappear for a while." She didn't work with the police and didn't want to. Samuel stayed outside with his fellow gargoyle. The two of them could deal with the clean-up. She headed to her studio and Hypos and Tepo came downstairs to join her.

  "Is it over?" Hypos asked.

  Ally nodded.

  "Dante's friend?" Tepo hunched his thin shoulders, ready for the worst.

  "Dead." The police would be as discreet as possible when they arrived. They'd slip behind the yard's high hedge, out of sight of neighbors. They liked it that citizens didn't have a clue that supernaturals existed in their city. And Ally liked it that not many supernaturals or humans knew about her—what she was and what her gifts were.

  Dante must have been thinking along the same lines. When he finished dealing with his detective friend and he and Samuel returned to the house, he sounded calmer.

  Ally had a feeling Samuel had given Dante a piece of his mind. Samuel would do that, and this time, she was grateful.

  "Whoever sent Corbin must not have known about you," Dante said. "Not many people do, and that's a good thing. No one realizes that you work magic or that you're a gorgon."

  Ally didn’t sh
ow off her writhing snakes hair any more than she had to. "That gives me an advantage. Enemies don't turn away when I shift."

  Dante scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm glad Corbin didn't end up as a statue."

  "Me, too." Ally had no desire to have a friend-turned-to-stone propped in a corner somewhere.

  Dante surprised her with one of his boyish smiles, the ones he used when he wanted something. She raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to turn on the charm. She found him irresistible enough, as was. But he was fishing for something, she could tell, and he was worried she was mad at him.

  "What do you want?" She might as well be direct.

  "Samuel volunteered to stay here and help Hypos and Tepo make supper if you'd come with me to look at Corbin's apartment. I don't expect to have much luck, but it can't hurt to see if we can find a clue about what he was doing or who he was seeing lately."

  "Your detective friend's all right with that?"

  "They keep hands-off for supernatural investigations, so there's no problem. Later tonight, I'm going to visit Corbin's pack, and I could use you as back-up for that, too."

  "Like I'd let you go without me." If someone sent Corbin to kill Dante, her gargoyle wasn't going anywhere without plenty of protection. Her protection.

  Dante's grin widened. "I'm grateful for that."

  She felt a scowl settle into place. "Now my magic might come in helpful? A few minutes ago, you were giving me hell for it."

  "Watching Corbin hurt himself was pretty hard to take. We were friends."

  "I get that." She was Greek, not always reasonable when upset. Looking down at her work jeans, smeared with smudges of dried clay, she shook her head. Different shades of glaze splattered her lightweight sweater.

  Dante motioned to his dust-covered jeans and white T-shirt. He and Samuel had been putting up shelves in Tepo's bedroom. "Who's going to see us?"

  "No fair. You look good in anything." Her gargoyle looked mighty delectable, rumpled and dusty.

  "So do you." His tone turned coaxing. "But you look better in nothing."

  Ally sighed. This was his way of trying to smooth things over? Men! "You can quit already. I'll go with you to the apartment."

  He smiled. "You aren't in the middle of anything?"

  Oh, the man was good. "I need to put Hypos's plates in the kiln. Tepo and I can work on the bowl when we get back, and there's no way I'd let you go alone anyway." Dante—all deferential concern now—helped her load the kiln and put a damp cloth over the sagging clay from the pottery wheel. That done, she grabbed her purse to leave.

  "Good luck," Samuel called to them. The big, strong gargoyle was wrapped in a flowered apron to help Hypos in the kitchen.

  Ally would never tire of that sight—gargoyles in frills.

  Dante drove. His mind was too preoccupied for him to be good company, so Ally leaned back in her seat to enjoy the scenery. They lived in an old neighborhood on the fringe of the city. The elegant houses of yesteryear were being lovingly restored. Tall, narrow, shotgun style houses sat next to Georgians, Victorians, and craftsman-style bungalows. As they drove through the city, they passed the massive cathedral where each gargoyle once occupied a corner to stand watch. Now that all four gargoyles were mated, they took turns at performing guard duty and placed three figures of themselves on the corners that once served as their perches. Gideon, the youngest gargoyle, sat on the far corner today. With their telepathy with one another, he could summon help immediately, if needed.

  Corbin lived in an apartment building on the north side of town, close to the mall. Ally was surprised he'd pick somewhere that was so crowded and public.

  "I thought werewolves liked their privacy," she said, looking at the complex of brick buildings.

  Dante came around the car to open her door for her. He answered as he led her to Building 3. "He was an old werewolf. Had lots of control. He didn't spend much time here. He was a runner. Entered marathons all around the area. And the alpha for Summit City owns lots of property. His pack meets there most weekends."

  That made sense. Corbin only used his apartment as a base. They climbed stairs to the highest floor and Dante motioned for Ally to use her magic to let them inside.

  They looked at a long, narrow, living room/dining room/and kitchen combined. A spacious master bedroom and bathroom were across a short hall.

  "Let's hope we get lucky and find something," Dante said.

  He started in the bedroom. Ally took the living room. Corbin's laptop sat, open, on the kitchen table. She turned it on. His e-mail scrolled on the screen. She looked through it. There was a message with Matthew in the subject line and she clicked on it. A picture of a wolf filled the screen. Maybe the pack's way of calling a meeting? Nothing else stood out. She went to his Junk messages and saw two e-mails titled Remember Matthew. A Biblical reference? Personal? They came from MitchellH. She clicked on one and called for Dante.

  Dante frowned as he read the message—"It's been three years. The pain's still with me. You helped cause it. You owe me. Meet me at the food court at the mall. This Sunday. Noon."

  "Corbin got that early this week. I'd say he met with this Mitchell," Ally said, "right before he came to find you."

  Dante's gaze turned to the view outside the living room window—his gaze unfocused, seeing, but not seeing. "The bastard played the guilt card to hurt him."

  "He knew it would work."

  "Because Corbin was a good guy." Dante's hands fisted. "Matthew. Three years ago. I vaguely remember that name."

  "You keep records of every crime and supernatural death, don't you?"

  Dante nodded. "I think you found what we needed. Let's go home and see if I can connect it to something."

  They were quiet on the drive back. Ally would have tried to comfort Dante, but it was too soon. She gave him needed space instead.

  When they walked into their apartment, the aroma of chicken and garlic, lemon and rosemary greeted them.

  "Supper's ready. Come and get it," Samuel called.

  Ally glanced out the windows toward the back of the property. Ecanus—the third gargoyle with the dark-auburn hair and green eyes and Zimaida, his nymph soul mate—were leaving the carriage house Ally had converted into an apartment for them. Since they'd all decided to share the old house Ally had bought, they'd fallen into the habit of taking turns cooking suppers and sharing each others' company during their meals. The only gargoyle missing was Gideon, who lived out of town with his soul mate, Humusi—a lotus-eater. They only drove into the city on Sundays to share supper with their friends…unless Gideon was standing guard, like tonight.

  As Ecanus held the door for Zimaida, Ally wondered if Corbin knew that Ecanus lived in the carriage house now. She doubted it. He'd seemed surprised that Samuel lived upstairs, but the minute he knew, he'd asked to see him, too. Did that mean that whatever vendetta someone had against Dante included Samuel? Or did it include all of the gargoyles?

  Was Gideon safe in Humusi's home, isolated in the countryside? Ally had placed a protection spell on their yard and house, too, but she'd feel better if she called Humusi to warn her. Gideon's mate would be alone out there tonight while he stood guard on the cathedral—alone. Were they safe? She turned to Dante. "I'm going to make a quick call before we eat."

  "I already warned Gideon," he told her. "He called Humusi."

  She blinked. How did he do that? How did he read her so well? "When did you call him?"

  "I sent him a message when Corbin attacked us."

  She nodded. Gargoyle telepathy. She should have known.

  He came up behind her and kneaded her shoulders with his strong fingers. She could feel her muscles relax. "Later tonight, Samuel, Ecanus, and I will go through files from three years ago. If we find a Matthew, we'll let you know."

  She nodded, feeling a little more confident.

  He bent to kiss her forehead. "And you and I will go to visit Corbin's pack after supper. We'll find more answers. We're making progress, so try to
enjoy supper. Samuel and Hypos made us a feast."

  And that, they had. Chicken breasts marinated in lemon and rosemary. Sautéed chickpeas with onions and spinach. Tepo had sliced cucumbers into a yogurt dressing for a salad. Ally inhaled the aroma of garlic, onions, and herbs, and the scents wrapped her in their heady comfort, reminding her of her Greek heritage.

  While they ate, the gargoyles kept up a lively conversation. By the end of the meal, Ally felt a little more balanced, a lot less stressed. When she rose to help with clean up, Dante waved her away.

  "Get out of here," he said. "The men are taking over the kitchen. We'll do clean-up tonight. You women go entertain yourselves somehow."

  Hypos wandered into Ally's studio. She showed Zimaida the colors of the glazes she'd chosen for her set of autumn dishes. "The forest green's already on and getting fired. Then I can do burnt orange swirls."

  "They'll be like the ones Ally used tonight?" Zimaida asked. She gave Ally a considering look. "I suppose they're a lot of work to make."

  "Not if we all pitch in," Hypos said. "It's fun, isn't it, Ally?"

  "It's not that hard to make the plates," Ally admitted. "I can teach you the coil and pinch method. Once Hypos's plates come out, and the kiln cools, I can fire yours. And then you can glaze them."

  Zimaida's moss-green eyes shone with excitement. "I've always wanted mustard-yellow plates with dark brown webs running through them."

  "Like a maple leaf in the fall," Hypos said.

  Zimaida nodded. She was a tree nymph, after all. Why wouldn't those colors appeal to her?

  Ally forced a smile. "Why not?" If throwing plates made her friends happy, she'd do it. Hypos pulled Zimaida to the long, work table and began showing her what to do. Ally turned to Tepo, who looked a little forlorn. This had been a hard day for a ten-year-old boy.

  "Ready to try a bowl again?" she asked.

  "I ruined it last time."

  "Everyone messes up the first time they try. You know what to do now. Come on." She guided the boy's hands to start him out, then let him finish the clay. When they turned off the wheel, his bowl rippled a bit at the top lip and was a little thicker on one side than the other, but he was happy with it. So was Hypos.