“It’s crucial that you return with us. You need to be trained in your abilities and meet the other males at the very least,” Atticus said, his voice strained.
“I’m not going with you,” I said politely. “As for my abilities? I’m trained.” I pulled on my jacket. “It was nice meeting you.” I turned and left the cafe.
Zahur
I watched as the female walked away before turning to Atticus. He was rubbing his eyes with one hand, his mouth a tight line. I bit back a smile. It wasn’t often the strongest gargoyle in existence was reprimanded by someone not even half his age. It was rarer still for Atticus not to fire back. I looked back at the door she left through. When I had come in Atticus seemed oddly relaxed yet tense at the same time. Interesting.
The waiter brought my coffee. I added cream as Atticus sat quietly, his unfocused eyes on the window. Atticus sighed deeply and picked up his tea.
“Tell me about the Necromancer,” he ordered. I finished my sip before answering.
“She’s seventeen,” I admitted. His gaze snapped to me, his eyes sharp. “I found her while she was trying to reach her Center. Before that, I had a word with her True Self.” Atticus’s face was blank as a board.
“Is she up to the task?” he asked directly.
“Without a doubt,” I answered. “It won’t be an easy road for her. But she… has an interesting future ahead of her.” Atticus looked at his tea, his gaze unfocused.
“Why did she need to meet with her True Self?” he asked. Damn. I’d hoped he’d missed that one.
“She unmade a soul and it affected her,” I admitted. Those golden eyes flashed at me. “It was trying to kill her, Atticus. What else could she have done?” I went back to my coffee. The girl did nothing but use the knowledge she had at the time to survive. We sat in silence as I finished my coffee quickly then looked back to him. “Now, how did you piss off our latest female?” Atticus gave me that blank face of his.
“She didn’t react the way I expected,” he admitted in a controlled voice. “The other females we’ve found were happy to give up fighting to go home.”
“Who is she?” I asked. Atticus took a drink of his tea.
“Her name is Evelyn. She was raised out among humans it seems,” he said. “Her parents are dead. One of us needs to follow her.” I nodded.
“I don’t think it should be you,” I told him. “You seem to make her angry.” Not to mention that I wanted to see if I could get more information out of her. I got to my feet and dropped a five on the table before heading out to the street.
Atticus
As soon as Zahur was out the door I took a deep breath. It was her. I looked at my tea and tried to think. A part of me was still reeling. The other was trying not to smile. For the first time in centuries, there was a reason to hope. My mind ran over our conversation. I closed my eyes and cursed. 'What kind of music do you enjoy?' Really, Atticus? What is wrong with you? You are almost five hundred years old. Normally, seducing females was easy; it came naturally. But with her? I sighed and looked out the window. Talking to her, all my experience disappeared in a puff of smoke. My entire life had just changed, and for once, it was for the better.
Wanting to smile, I pulled my phone out of my suit jacket pocket. I hit the name I was looking for and waited.
“Yes,” the male’s voice demanded.
“I’ve found her,” I stated. And she was more than I ever expected.
Cyrus sighed. “Good. Bring her home tonight.”
“She doesn’t want to leave. There’s what looks like a demon kill in the city; she intends to investigate,” I explained, trying not to bristle at the order.
“I don’t care what you have to do. Get her back here,” Cyrus growled. He might not care, but I did. I wasn't about to drag her back to the community if she didn't want to go.
“She’s also my Match.” My body grew tense as the silence stretched.
“Listen to me, Atticus.” Cyrus’s tone was hard. “You are in a dangerous situation. Keep her at arm’s length, otherwise you risk losing your self-control. Do you understand?”
The world stopped. No. I wouldn’t ... not with her. This was my only chance. I swallowed hard. "I'm not my parents," I told him.
"But you are of your parents' bloodlines,” he reminded me. "Remember what happened to them?"
"Yes," I answered. I'd never forget it. Cyrus made sure of it. Everything in me was screaming that he was wrong. That I could handle it. But if I was mistaken, she'd be the one to pay the price. He was right. I couldn't have her. I closed my eyes as every hope I ever had flickered out. What did I expect? Something good in my life? That was for other gargoyles, not me.
"You can't be with her and keep control,” Cyrus lectured. "Do you understand?"
“Yes, sir.”
Evelyn
As I drove out of the garage in my ’68 Shelby Mustang my skin crawled. I knew that feeling. I was being followed, again. I checked my mirrors but found no car sticking close. Then I adjusted my side-mirror to look up. About eight hundred feet above someone was flying, though I couldn’t see their wings. Odd. I drove to the parking lot behind the hospital and parked. I was getting out as I watched a dark figure drop to the ground, landing out of sight. I leaned against the car, crossed my arms over my stomach and waited.
Zahur stepped out into the light, pulling on his shirt.
“You’re not very good at tailing someone,” I pointed out.
“My specialty isn’t flying,” he bit out.
I raised an eyebrow. “Then what is?”
Zahur started to button his white linen shirt. While he got dressed I couldn’t help but take a peek. Broad muscled shoulders, tapered waist, narrow hips, big arms and ripped beyond belief. I waited as he finished buttoning his shirt over all that bronze skin. Those silver eyes met mine. With Atticus gone my body had finally calmed down. What was it about that male? I eyed Zahur. And why didn't Zahur affect me that way? Did we have to touch for it to really affect me? I wish I knew.
“I mainly work in the Ether, the plane between this world and the others,” Zahur announced as he tucked his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cellphone, “so I don’t get a lot of flight time.” He texted while I stepped away from my car and headed for the back door of the hospital. He followed.
“Why are you following me?” I asked as I reached the door and pulled out my wallet.
“One of us needs to stay with you until we head back home,” he grumbled, putting his phone back. I turned and gave him another smile, hoping he'd warm up.
“I’m one hundred and eighty-six years old,” I informed him. “I can take care of myself.” Zahur eyed me.
“Most gargoyles die before they reach two hundred simply because they are cocky,” he informed me. My smile disappeared. “Besides, it’s protocol for all females now.” I didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Zahur around. Having another gargoyle around was a nice change, even if he was crabby. It was just... odd.
“It’s not my protocol,” I pointed out as I found the card I was looking for.
“Technically, it is,” he said. I shook my head as I ran the card through the slider. The light turned green, I opened the door and walked in. He followed. I flashed him a grin over my shoulder.
“I grew up with humans, remember?” I reminded him.
“How is it that you grew up away from our home?” he asked as he walked beside me down the hall. I thought about how to answer.
“My parents left your people behind and Mom had me after,” I summed up as we entered the stairwell. I headed for the basement.
“Must have been lonely, not getting to play with other kids,” he offered. I smiled.
“I played with other kids, they were just human.” I opened a door and left the stairwell.
“Really?” he asked, intrigued. “What happened when you flashed fang or your wings?” Voices echoed down the hall. I grabbed his arm and managed to pull h
im into the closet and close the door before the two police officers came around the corner.
“Huh,” I muttered. I eyed him, surprised I didn’t have the same reaction to Zahur as I did to Atticus.
“Why are we in the closet?” he asked dryly.
“The police and I don’t have the best working relationship,” I said quietly as I listened at the door.
“That explains the dash.” He joined me at the door. “Now what was with that look?”
“Nothing,” I said absently. “I just expected the same reaction I got with Atticus.” He straightened. The police were gone. I stepped out of the closet and started down the bare hallway. Zahur followed.
“What reaction was that?” he asked quietly as we turned another corner.
“Oh, nothing, just a… jolt,” I hedged.
“Have you ever heard of the term The Matching?” Zahur asked casually.
I shook my head as we kept going down the hall. “No, I don’t think I have. Why?”
“No reason,” he muttered. “Since I am in charge of your safety, would you mind telling me where we’re going?”
“The morgue,” I explained with a sweet smile. “I need to get a look at the other victims.”
2
Evelyn
The morgue reeked. With my heightened senses I smelled everything: decomposing bodies, anti-bacterial soap, the chemicals the janitor used tonight. And it always gave me a headache. It was my lucky night though as Brian, my favorite orderly, was working tonight. I opened the door to the morgue and stuck my head in. There was only Brian at one of the tall tables with a black body bag on it. Since it was clear of police, I walked in.
“Hi, Brian,” I greeted cheerfully. He jumped, then chuckled. Brian was your average guy: dark brown hair, nice puppy dog eyes in an oval face. His addiction to video games in his off hours hadn’t helped his physique any. At twenty-three he was already sporting a small beer belly.
“You scared the hell out of me, Evie,” he told me, shaking his head. “Can’t you make some noise?” His gaze went over my shoulder to Zahur.
“Sorry, I had to duck into a closet to avoid the police. I was worried there were still some in here,” I admitted as I moved to stand across from him at the table. “I need to examine a few strange deaths.”
Brian’s gaze hadn’t left Zahur. “Who’s that?”
“Don’t worry. That’s Zahur,” I stated. “He’s like me.”
“Evelyn-”
“Another P.I.?” Brian played dumb as he turned back to me. “I’ve never known you to work with a partner.” I shrugged.
“Well, he is rather handsome company. What girl could say no to that?” I offered, smiling. Brian looked at Zahur and gave him the once-over.
“Not me, honey,” he admitted. I smiled at the dumbfounded look on Zahur’s face. Poor guy. I turned back to Brian.
“I need to look at the murder victim from tonight, near West Madison Street, and the other two that are similar,” I announced. Brian’s smile faded.
“The one from tonight hasn’t been through forensics,” he said. I pulled gloves out of the box on the wall.
“I’ll be careful,” I assured him. “You know me - paranoid.”
He sighed. “I’ll get the other two out.” Brian walked off.
Before I did anything else I pulled a hair tie out of my pocket and put my long hair into a tight bun on top of my head. The last thing I needed was one of my hairs to get picked up in a murder investigation. That’d just bring up all kinds of trouble. After my hair was secured, I pulled on my gloves. Zahur moved to the head of the table.
“What exactly are we doing here?” he asked. I reached out and began unzipping the body bag.
“We are looking at the bodies of the victims to figure out what kind of demon did this. We’re also getting solid evidence for Atticus,” I explained as I finished unzipping the bag. I looked at him and pointed. “Please, don’t touch anything.” I went back to the head of the table and began to open the bag. Brian joined us just in time to help me lift the flap of the bag carefully.
The body was that of a young woman; she couldn’t have been older than nineteen. I sighed as Brian went to get the paperwork. I looked at the body of the victim. Her chest was a mass of red meat and white bone. I brought the light over the table down further so I could see into the chest cavity. Some of the tissue was burned black, the rest was normal.
“Her name was-”
“Brian,” I warned absently. “My face is practically in the chest cavity. It would be a bad time to give it a name.” The ribs were broken and hinged, some of them twice, facing two different directions. I angled the light again to get a better look at her organs. Her heart was missing, all that was left were three thick scorched lines in the surrounding tissue and organs. I blinked. Three? My stomach dropped as I stood up. Three, not five.
That wasn't good. I walked around to the next table where Brian had brought out another victim. Another girl around the same age. I adjusted the light and looked into the pulverized remains of her chest cavity. Same as the first. Troubled, I straightened.
“Three, not five,” I mumbled as I walked around the table to the next body. Another young girl. The same destroyed chest cavity, the same missing heart. Three more burns against the surrounding tissue.
“Dang it,” I bit out as I took off my gloves and threw them away. I turned to Brian. “I need copies of their files, please.” Brian simply nodded and walked out the door. I gestured to the newest victim. “Can you take a look and tell me what you see?” I asked him. He gave me a patient look.
“There are other ways to determine if it’s a demon kill,” he lectured me. I gave him a patient smile.
“We already know it’s a demon kill, we’re looking for what kind,” I reminded him. “Now, look at the wound, please.” He adjusted the light and looked closely into the remains of the chest cavity. When he stood up his face was dark.
“Three scorch marks,” he said. I nodded. He went on to examine each body. When he was done, he cursed in another language. It sounded old, ancient even. He turned back to me. “They all have it, which means-”
“It wasn’t done by a possessed human,” I finished for him. “A full demon got through the barriers.”
His gaze ran over me with approval. “It would seem so.” He looked back at the bodies, his face drawn. I moved back to the freshest body and pushed up the sleeves of my shirt and coat. I took several deep breaths and reached out to touch her forehead. A dark hand stopped me. I looked up, surprised.
“What are you doing?” he bit out, his eyes hard.
“Looking at her last memories,” I answered. Wasn’t it obvious? Zahur looked at me, his face furious.
“Do you understand how dangerous that is?” he asked as he straightened to his full height. “They can suck you in and kill you too.”
“If you make a mistake, yes, it’s dangerous,” I explained as I met his eyes. “I don’t make mistakes.” He stepped between me and the gurney.
“No,” he stated, an accent starting to come through. “It is too dangerous. Especially for…”
“For?” I asked.
He clenched his jaw. “For a female. Right now, there are only a few of you left.” I blinked in surprise. “I know if you do this, you could find out exactly what killed these women. But I still can’t let you.”
“You just met me, Zahur,” I reminded him. “You don’t really know me or my abilities.”
“I'm aware of that,” he whispered. “My job is to keep you safe. Letting you do this wouldn't be keeping you safe.” The look in his eyes was serious. He wasn’t going to let me do this. I pulled my hand from his.
“Alright,” I said, my voice resigned. “I won’t look at her memories. Let’s just get the files and go.” When he looked at me relief filled his eyes, it almost made me feel guilty. He moved away from the gurney towards the door to the coroner’s office. When he was far enough away, I turned and put my hand on the d
ead girl’s forehead.
“No!”
I dove my mind into what was left of hers. It was dark, her mind was decomposing, the memory banks dying out. It was like spelunking with a candle, and it took time. I dove deeper until I found the last flicker. I cupped my mental hands around the spark and breathed into it, giving it the energy it needed to come back to life. When it was large and glowing in my hands I threw it above me.
I was on the sidewalk, coming home from a party. Drunk and weaving, I decided to take the shortcut through the alley. It was dark, but I could see because of lights from the buildings. It wasn’t so bad. I wiped the tears from my face. The picture of Brent in bed with my best friend Stacy filled my mind again. How could she do that to me? My heart ached as I weaved through the alley. A loose brick dropped from one of the buildings and smashed onto the concrete. I jumped, my pulse raced. I walked faster. We’d been friends since we were four, how could she do that to me? There was a sound. A scrape of something on stone. I went still, fear crawling through me. A warm breeze ran over the back of my neck. I froze. Then turned slowly. It was huge; long-limbed with black eyes. I jerked. It was hard to breathe. I looked down and couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Its forearm was against my chest as if… Agony tore through me as the monster started digging around. It jerked its arm out of my chest. Time to go!
I jerked myself out of her mind and back to mine. I fell backward. Warm arms caught me against a hard body. I shook as I tried to stand, only my legs weren’t having it. Someone was saying something in an old language as they picked me up and carried me away from the table. It came back to me. Oh yeah - the morgue, Zahur. He was so not going to be happy with me. He set me down in Brian’s desk chair. His hands went to my face; I opened my eyes. He knelt on the floor, his eyes angry.
Found (Books of Stone Book 1) Page 2