“Scotland. Shadow Wood, sanctuary for the Netherworld.”
Kate nodded slowly, as though it all made perfect sense now, which it did not. Sure, Declan had told her this was Shadow Wood, a castle in Scotland. But the warlock thing? And sanctuary? For the Netherworld? “You’re kidding.”
“Not in the least.”
He didn’t blink, just stood there looking matter-of-fact. Finally he said, “A shock, I know. Do you need something to drink? A place to sit down? You don’t seem like the fainting type, but one never knows. It’s not every day—”
“It’s not every day someone blinks themselves into the Netherworld?”
Von Hiller smiled again. “Precisely.”
Well, Kate thought to herself, she might not have chased a gargoyle down hell’s rabbit hole, but she’d be willing to bet that Alice wouldn’t be half as calm right now.
So yeah, she was holding up pretty well, and no, she wasn’t the fainting type. It occurred to her that Ian had been the only person she’d met at Shadow Wood who seemed surprised. Worse, he thought someone here was playing an elaborate joke on him, which solidified her fear that he hadn’t a clue what was really going on.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me. I’ve been expected again, haven’t I?” she said.
“Most definitely. Welcome! May I show you around?” he asked. “Perhaps I could answer some questions?”
Kate nodded. “That would be perfect.” There were so many things she wanted to know! But where to begin? She glanced at the mirror. “What is that thing?”
“It’s a Glass Reaper,” Von Hiller replied. “They have an uncanny ability to tell the future—that is, if you believe them. Declan is the only one here who’ll talk to such vile things. Usually Glass Reapers forecast events surrounding a death. Sometimes they come to collect. They’re like vultures with a serious lack of patience.”
“Oh!” Kate took a step away from the mirror.
“Did you get a good look at it?”
“The hooded figure?”
“That’d be a yes, then.” Von Hiller scrunched his face in distaste. “Those things are rather foul.”
She’d been here—what? About an hour? She’d run into two people of purported supernatural status and some nasty fortuneteller of the dead.
Nice rescue mission, Kate, she told herself. Good thing Ian’s life wasn’t at stake here. Or hers. Oh! Wait!
“Is it bad that I saw one? What do you mean Glass Reapers forecast death?”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. You are the sentinel, so I’m sure . . .” He glanced away. “My apologies. You aren’t the sentinel—at least not quite yet. I’m sure you and those closest to you will be fine. I just meant that you’ve probably already seen some very violent things, if the gargoyles have anything to do with it.”
She gave him a wary look. “Sentinel? What are you talking about?” But she did know. Somewhat. It’s just that she didn’t know exactly what that meant in relation to her and the damn gargoyles.
“Ah! Forgive me. I forget that Declan hasn’t had a chance to tell you everything yet.”
Kate could only shake her head. “No, I guess Declan forgot to print out the welcome brochure.”
“Perhaps it’s because you keep running off? I do hope you can stay for a while,” he said, ignoring her dig. “It appears that you and Declan have plenty to talk about. Dinner is at seven in the main dining hall. Declan has saved a spot at his table for you and for another visitor, Mr. McGuire.”
“Ian?”
“Yes, Ian. After you meet with Declan and get the answers you need, I can take you to him if you’d like? You two have much to talk about as well.”
From what Roland had said, they had a whole lot to talk about. But dinner? And how often had Declan been saving a spot for her? Just tonight? Every night? Her lack of an answer apparently was an answer in Von Hiller’s mind. “It’s settled then. Before dinner, I’ll take you to Declan, and afterward, Ian.”
Perfect. After a chat with Declan, she’d warn Ian and then go home. “You know, the offer is tempting and all, but I’m not so sure about—”
“Nonsense! You haven’t eaten, have you?”
Kate didn’t know what to say, but felt her traitor head shake no. She didn’t think telling him that she’d just eaten breakfast a few hours ago would be a good enough excuse.
Kate refrained from asking if they served tea and finger sandwiches. Or whose fingers were in those sandwiches.
“Um, okay then.” With both Ian and Declan at the same table, she might get all the answers she needed. It’d be safer, too. Better than traipsing around a huge-ass castle, running into who knows what. She hoped. “You’ve . . . convinced me.”
“Excellent news!” Von Hiller said. “Let me show you to your room.” He gave the mirror a final, cautious look. The mirror remained covered, but Kate couldn’t help but recoil, knowing what lurked beneath the sheet.
Von Hiller shut the door behind them, and with a flick of his wrist, the door vanished, leaving nothing but a blank wall.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kate
Von Hiller led her down the hallway to the room where she’d first appeared today. “We’ve already prepared it for you,” he said, opening the door for Kate.
“But you didn’t know I’d be needing one, or did you?” Kate asked, reluctant to step inside. There was no telling who or what might be there, on the ceiling. Or wherever.
Von Hiller frowned, as if sensing her unease. “No, but we have quite a few of them, and it wouldn’t hurt to give you one. If it’s not to your liking, I’ll be happy to find you another.”
He seemed so genuine, Kate didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d already been here and talked to Roland. “No, I’m sure it’s just fine.”
Kate stepped inside, and Von Hiller closed the door behind her. Declan sat on one of the sofas. He held a glass of wine. Another glass sat on the table next to him. It didn’t surprise her that he was already here, waiting for her. It seemed that her room was where all the cool kids hung out.
Her room. Okay, so it was just a guest room. A castle of this size had to have an abundance of them. She hoped they had locks. Not that it’d do a lot of good with these guys, but it’d make her feel better. Maybe Von Hiller could come up with some sort of security spell.
“Hello, Kate,” Declan said with a smile. If the moonlight illuminated his distinguished features, then the daylight enhanced them even more. His gray-blue eyes were piercing. His very presence commanded respect. And maybe a healthy dose of fear, too. He owned a castle that was a sanctuary for supernatural . . . things. Yes, this man definitely had immense power. She’d wanted to find him and ask questions, and here he sat. So why had she grown silent?
Because you only play a badass, Kate, she thought. Declan is badass.
He motioned to a spot on the sofa, and Kate joined him. She lifted the glass of wine he’d placed on the table for her. She felt sure he wouldn’t have drugged the wine. That was far too . . . mundane. Too mortal.
“Welcome back.” He raised his glass, and she reciprocated his toast.
She thought of asking how he’d known she would return, but instead she took another sip of wine and waited for her host—or captor, depending on your perspective—to start the conversation. Sometimes there was more information to be gained by listening.
Declan smiled wryly. “Ian is fine. He tells me that you have already met.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t asked about Ian.
“You seem worried. I simply thought you might want to know,” Declan added.
“Good. I’m glad,” she replied. Same old Declan. Von Hiller might be the one with a book of incantations and potions, but Declan had the magic tricks.
“You want to know if he sees them, too.”
Kate sucked in a breath. Declan was very observant. Still, how had he known what she was going to ask?
Declan continued. “The gargoyles. You have finally come
to ask me about them. I knew you would. Eventually.”
“Does he?” Kate asked. “See them, that is.”
“Yes, and no,” Declan replied. “You have undoubtedly realized you have a certain talent—although I do not believe that is precisely how you see it at the moment. Given the events that took place in the alleys, I would tend to agree it is a bit disquieting.” His eyes darkened. “But no. Ian does not see them in the same manner as you do.”
“What do they want?” Kate asked, stiffening. This was the moment of truth. Would he tell her all of it? “And how do you know what visions I’m seeing?”
“They are my creation, my dear. I often see what they do. As for what they want, you have been chosen as their next sentinel, which is an honor, I assure you.” He set down his glass and shifted toward her.
“Yeah. About that . . .” Kate shook her head. “My apologies to you and your creations, but I’m sure you can also understand why I’m not feeling the love.”
“It started with your ancestors, both yours and Ian’s,” Declan went on. “Both families were from this area a very long time ago. You might say the supernatural is in your blood. Certain families were chosen to carry the gene that allows them to communicate with the gargoyles.” He shrugged. “Well, more or less. You might have found you have been drawn to them as of late?”
“Drawn to them? I’m thinking it’s the other way around.” Which wasn’t entirely true. It was a two-way street. Except when they killed someone and decided to share their enthusiasm in all its telepathic Technicolor glory.
Declan paused. “I know what I am about to tell you is not exactly a surprise. You have seen things here that are not in your normal mortal world. Although this is the Netherworld, not everything or everyone in it is immortal. Since the sentinels are human, their life span does not last forever. They live to be around a hundred or so.”
Kate doubted this last tidbit of information applied to him. Declan seemed ageless. As for her, she couldn’t say. She had family members who’d lived well into their nineties, but she had chalked that up to great genetics and luck. She agreed with the rest, though—this place was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Kate thought of what it’d be like to live to be over a hundred. Usually she couldn’t envision what her life might be like five years from now, much less another eighty. Was the last sentinel that old?
“So the last sentinel has died, I take it?” She wanted to hear Declan’s explanation—if he had one. Would his story match Roland’s?
He nodded, but gracefully skipped over that particular part of the story. “I am sorry to say that he has, and that leaves you,” he said. “I selected Ian first, as I have known of him for some time, but then the gargoyles began to awaken, and they discovered you. It appears they found you more interesting. Unfortunately, by that time Ian was already an invited guest. One who knows quite a bit about this place. Perhaps slightly more than is wise. That is my fault. I have been supplying him with ideas for his novels for years. I thought that because of his work, he would make the best choice for sentinel.”
His voice was cool and deliberate, and it made her think he’d omitted more than the devoured sentinel.
“So why is Ian still here? I imagine if they’ve selected me, then there can be only one. Does he go home now?”
“Perhaps.” Declan seemed far off in his thoughts, and Kate found it less than comforting.
He must have seen a flicker of doubt in her expression, because his eyes darkened further. “I would like to make a deal with you.”
A deal? Kate wondered. She only stared back.
“Come live here and become the next sentinel. You will be treated well, live comfortably, and enjoy all the castle has to offer.”
“Live here? No. I don’t think so. I’m perfectly happy in the mortal world.”
Where she wasn’t likely to be eaten.
Declan regarded her intently. “Are you certain?”
“Very,” Kate replied. Declan waited as though he expected her to say more. “I have friends. A home,” Kate went on. “A great career that I’ve worked hard for. It’s just taking off. Scotland’s a bit of a commute in my line of work. Your gargoyles are mistaken. I think they should pick someone else.”
“Like Ian? Hmm. I do not believe so. And I do not believe you are telling me the truth about how you are drawn to my castle. You say that you want nothing to do with it, yet you keep coming back.”
“I’m here to get you to make it stop. To make it all go away. I don’t want any part of it.”
There. She’d said it. Hopefully Declan would accept it. Find someone else. Someone who wanted this weird job of his. But she had to be sure that nothing would happen to Ian. “Ian needs to leave, too. You’ve told him everything?”
“While he has been informed of much of the sentinel’s duties, he is not privy to all of it just yet. Are you sure you want to return home? To never return?”
“As long as the gargoyles leave me alone? Yes. I’d like it all to end.” While she’d be glad to no longer share in the gargoyles’ snack-a-thon sessions, she would miss the castle. But Declan clearly knew this.
Declan took another sip of his wine. “Leaving you out of this is not as simple as you make it seem. So much is at stake, and I could use your assistance.”
“You’re asking me? Do I have a choice?” Kate asked.
“Everyone has a choice,” Declan said, his tone earnest. “Believe me when I say that I am only trying to help.”
“Help whom?” Kate asked. “Me? Ian? Or those gargoyles?”
“All of the above. Ian needs a muse. He has been in a rut ever since . . . well, he has needed something to shock him back into life. The gargoyles need direction. They crave control. And you crave adventure, a challenge. There are others I am trying to help, too. I do not have all their names, Kate. I do not have the names of everyone the gargoyles hunt. All I can tell you is that you have a choice. You can either allow it to continue, or you can help stop it.”
Kate opened her mouth, ready to protest. Declan raised a hand. “You are driven, my dear. Ambitious. But your desire for control and success is tempered with kindness. You never accept power off the hard work of others. You have morals and a good conscience. It is very clear to me why the gargoyles have chosen you.”
“What did you do, Google me?”
“The gargoyles would not have selected someone who was anything less than what I have said.”
She had to hand it to him; the man knew how to put a spin on flattery. “Yeah, well. The answer is still no. There has to be some other way.”
“And love? You crave that, too.”
Kate laughed, a bit nervously. “No offense, but the gargoyles aren’t my type. And if you’re suggesting—”
“I assure you that my intentions are pure. My heart is still taken, I am afraid.” His voice was filled with loss.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
“No need. It was many years ago. I still have a son, and he has a daughter. And while I do not visit because it might bring them harm from my enemies, I find comfort in knowing of them all the same.”
“Sounds hard—not seeing them.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “See? You care about people, Kate. Help me. And in return, perhaps I can help you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Where had that come from? She’d meant to say that she didn’t need any help. There was nothing wrong with her life.
Yeah, except that wasn’t entirely true.
Michael had issues accepting the breakup, and she had a crazy stalker following her around. Still, it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She put her glass on the table.
“Are you in some sort of trouble, Kate?” Declan asked.
Her mind drifted to the guy in the Marauder. “What? No.”
“I get a sense that you are. Someone close to you, perhaps?” Declan replied.
Kate thought about Michael. He was delusional, not dangerous. “Can we get back to t
he gargoyles? Isn’t that trouble enough?”
“If you do not want to be the sentinel, why would you want to know more about them?”
He had her there. It wasn’t that she wanted the job, but she felt compelled to make this right. To ensure that the gargoyles would find someone else. That they’d stop killing people.
Kate felt a tightening in her chest. “Hey, I’m already here, right? Call me curious.”
He regarded her again, obviously not buying her story. “Fair enough. You are only experiencing all of the gargoyle’s senses because there is not a sentinel around to control them. If you were their master, then you would be able to influence their actions and their thoughts. A former sentinel managed to lull them into a form of hibernation. With a little practice, some time, and my help, you could do the same.”
“Why can’t you control them?” she asked.
“I can, but they need someone to be with them more than my time allows. You would be more like a guardian angel. Controlling them is a bit like owning dogs. You are their master, and they look to you for leadership. You give them rules to abide by and gentle corrections for disobedience. Once they understand what you ask of them and feel that you are capable and fair, they will drift to sleep instead of reacting. Besides, my idea of humanity might be quite different than yours.”
You mean killing, Kate thought.
“Wow. Some dogs. Look, I don’t even own a goldfish, so I’m far from the Gargoyle Whisperer. But okay. What happens then?” she asked. “What happens when they go into hibernation?”
“You do as you wish,” he stated. “Mostly.”
He wasn’t going to give up on the idea of her living here. She considered just leaving—willing herself back home. But if she left now, she promised herself she’d never return. She might as well ask everything she could think of while she was still here. “Fine. Let’s just wildly entertain the idea that I live here. Part time. Am I free to go anywhere I like? My career depends on that.”
“Yes, but not indefinitely.”
“What happens if I accept, but then never return?”
“The gargoyles would reawaken.”
Of Shadow and Stone Page 14