The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series

by Pauline Gruber

  “If only there was a way to convince Garret to see reason. I don’t believe Jude has done the things Garret’s accusing him of. After all, we’re here.” Persephone gestures to everyone in the room. “We’re watching him. Have been for years.”

  I shrug helplessly. “His hatred is so strong, his determination…it’s like—”

  “Seamus and his pursuit of you,” Persephone finishes.

  Henry slides his glasses back on. “We’re going to need to consult with others. Persephone, what about Mirabelle and her coven in New Orleans? They might be able to help.”

  “I’ll contact her.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “Why consult with others? We’re strong enough to take on Garret and a couple of protectors gone bad, aren’t we?”

  Persephone shakes her head, her wiry curls bouncing. It would be funny, except for her expression. I’ve never seen Persephone wear fear before. “If Garret came here to take out Jude, he’s been preparing for a long time.”

  I swallow carefully because my throat just closed.

  Henry turns to Aiden, visibly bracing himself. “You’re not going to like this, but we’re going to need to summon your old friend.”

  Aiden’s eyes darken. “Bad idea, Henry.”

  “We can trust him, and frankly, we need the numbers,” Henry says.

  Persephone nods slowly. “Max? Good thinking.”

  I’ve never seen Aiden squirm before. “Who’s Max?” I ask.

  Aiden shakes his head stubbornly. “We should consider other options.”

  “Max comes from a powerful line of fighters,” Henry points out. “And since Jude saved his life all those years ago, he’s indebted to him.”

  “I remember all too well,” Aiden says.

  “What’s so special about this guy that we need him? How can he help us?” I ask.

  “He’s hired muscle.” Aiden watches Henry, daring him to disagree. “If chaos and slaughter are what you’re after, you call Max.”

  Henry holds up his hands. “We’re not looking to harm Garret. We simply need additional protection for Jude. If we want to intimidate, he’s the perfect demon to have on our side.”

  “He’s a hothead,” Aiden counters. “And he’s not known for his loyalty.”

  Persephone gives Aiden the look I thought was reserved solely for me, the one where her eyes narrow into slits and her lips all but disappear. That look scares the bejesus out of me. “Put your personal differences aside. We need him.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Aiden glowers. He turns his back on us and focuses on something outside the window.

  Henry sets his teacup on the table and pushes himself off the couch. “We’ll keep searching for other allies. Whatever it takes to protect Jude.”

  Did I hear him correctly? “I don’t understand. You both despise Jude. Why would you help him?”

  “Lucy…” Henry’s face softens. His green eyes appear deeper, more of a moss color, and I wonder if I’m seeing things.

  “This isn’t about Jude.” Persephone sniffs.

  The room fills with oppressive silence.

  “Then what is it?” I ask.

  Aiden’s stony expression fixes on me. “When a demon dies, so do all of his progeny.”

  It takes a moment for his words to sink in. Then my blood turns to ice. “No,” I whisper. Aiden’s lying, trying to hurt me. Persephone’s eyes meet mine, desperate and afraid. It’s true.

  I could be wiped out of existence at any moment—Jude could get hit by a bus tomorrow or killed by Garret next week—or even if Garret fails, there will be someone else who wants to kill Jude. My heartbeat thunders painfully in my chest.

  What about Tuesday Chinese takeout night with my uncles? And Mrs. Stevens is supposed to take Katie and me to Margie’s—the best ice cream parlor in Chicago—this summer. And who will help Persephone take care of Lola, once she and Serenity return? Then there’s Ethan and Brandi. Who will take care of them once I’m gone? And what about Marcus? I can’t stand the thought of him having a life without me.

  “Lucy?” Henry’s voice echoes in my head.

  The room starts to tilt.

  “She needs to sit down,” Persephone says as she takes hold of my arm.

  The two of them push me onto the couch.

  “Deep breaths, Lucy.” Henry’s voice sounds far away.

  “Does Garret know that by killing Jude, he’ll kill me, too?”

  “Of course he does,” Aiden growls. “He wants to kill two birds with one stone, and after he uses Marcus to do his dirty work, he’ll abandon him again.”

  My thoughts race. How much time do I have left? Will I finish sophomore year? Will I get to drive my new car? Will I make it to Caroline’s year-end party? It suddenly feels important that I do. How many spells can I learn from Persephone? “There’s a spell that’ll protect me, right? If Jude dies?”

  It takes Persephone too long to answer. “Not that we know of.”

  All the air leaves my lungs. Jude’s going to die. I’m going to die.

  Persephone hoists herself from the couch. She stands tall. “I will reach out to Mirabelle today, see if she knows of any protection spells that can help us.” Her eyes flit on me for a moment, then dart away.

  “We’re in a catch twenty-two. The only way to save Lucy is to warn Jude, but we can’t. That would mean certain death for Garret. We can’t risk the life of a protector, especially the head of the clan,” Henry says solemnly. “So…for now, we work together to protect Jude.”

  I look across the room in time to see the distress on Aiden’s face before he returns to the window.

  * * * *

  I blow my nose in a tissue, then shove it in my sweatshirt pocket along with the others. It’s late and the street below is dark.

  “So much for finally getting my wish to live in Gram’s house,” I turn away from the ledge and plunk down next to the stone gargoyle, “and having a best friend…well, two of them if you count Dylan.” I slide a sideways glance at Marcus, expecting a sarcastic remark. None comes, of course. “And what about you? Never in a million years did I think I’d have such an amazing boyfriend.”

  Tears fill my eyes again and spill onto my cheeks. “It’s stupid, I know, but I really thought we’d be together forever. You know?” I choke on my tears.

  Who knows how much time I have left with him? I gasp and wipe the tears away. What if Garret decides to kill Jude tonight? Back on my feet, I grasp Marcus’s concrete wings and shake him. It’s more like a teeter.

  “Marcus, I need you.” I touch his face, stroke his head. “Come back to me, please.”

  I plant kisses along his face. “Now may be all we have left. You’ve got to change. Right now.” Can he hear me? Or do my desperate pleas fall on deaf ears.

  I sink to my knees. My fingers brush against his cold, hard legs down to his paw-like feet.

  Suddenly, Marcus shivers. Stone statutes don’t—He does it again!

  I look at his toes. It’s not possible. What the heck? With both hands, I proceed to tickle the gargoyle’s feet.

  The stone statue tips sharply to the left. I grab him right before he crashes to the ground and heave him upright. His left wing bends and flutters against my shoulder.

  “Marcus?”

  His body ripples and shudders through the change. His wings transform from stone to feathers. His limbs no longer resemble a dog and a bear, but a man. The transformation occurs so fast, so powerful that it appears blurry at the same time it throws me backward.

  Marcus arches his back and groans as his body elongates, his bones snapping into place. His chest heaves as he sucks in air to fill his lungs.

  “Lucy,” he wheezes. His wings tremble then retract against his back. “What’s wrong? Who sent you?”

  I rise to my feet and dust off my jeans. “Sent me?”

  Marcus looks around the roof as if searching for someone.

  I close the distance between us. “It’s just me.” I push
damp hair out of his eyes. I kiss his flushed cheeks, his forehead, his lips.

  Marcus studies my face. Great. With my puffy, red face, I’m sure I look gross.

  His hands cup my cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

  I cover his hands with my own, tears stinging my eyes. “What if we only have tonight, Marcus? What would you do?”

  He grips my shoulders. “Stop it, Lucy. You’re scaring me.”

  I wriggle free. I don’t want the calming influence of his touch right now, whether it’s intentional or not. “You’re scared? What about me?” His baffled expression tells me I lost him. “Did you know about demons and their progeny? What happens when they die? What happens if Jude dies?”

  Realization dawns on Marcus’s face, followed by horror. “What are you saying?” His voice is low. His words choked. “Is Jude going to die tonight?”

  My shoulders slump. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have it hear it from Aiden?”

  Marcus’s arms hang limp at his sides. “Because I thought I could fix this before it ever got to that point.” He drops his gaze. “It was easier, you know, when Jude caused all the problems. When he was the enemy. I knew all along I would do whatever it took to protect you from him.” Marcus sighs and his eyes meet mine.

  “Marcus…” I want to throw myself into his embrace, do whatever I can to make the gut-wrenching sorrow leave his eyes.

  Marcus’s gaze hardens as he exhales noisily. “Now, it’s my father threatening your life.” His fists curl at his sides. “He won’t harm you, Lucy. I’ll kill him myself.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Lucy!” Brandi shrieks as she bounds into my arms. She’s a vision this morning with her pink sweater, pink jeans, and pink socks.

  I hug Dylan’s younger sister like today’s our last day together. Then I tickle her until she breaks into a fit of giggles.

  “Guess what?” she asks, gasping for breath. She doesn’t wait for me to respond. “My birthday is April tenth.”

  “Seriously?” I calculate the days. “That’s in two weeks!”

  Ethan walks into the room, his hair damp from a shower. In contrast to his sister, he wears khakis and a button-down oxford shirt. He dresses the part of a little adult, a miniature Mr. Douglas.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait to have a houseful of screaming eight and nine-year-old girls.” He frowns. “I suggested to our mom that she have the party at a restaurant. That way, I could stay home.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Ethan, that isn’t very nice. Brandi’s birthday is a big deal.” My breath catches when it hits me. I may not be around for her big day.

  “But I don’t like her friends, and when she’s around them, I don’t like her either,” he says. “You’d be the best nanny ever if you help make that happen.”

  When did the ten-year-old boy turn into a grumpy old man? I reach over and mess up Ethan’s hair. He frowns again and quickly finger combs it back into place.

  “My friend Maria loooooooves you,” Brandi croons. “She says she wants to marry you.”

  Ethan purses his lips, pulling his eyebrows low. “Tell her to forget it. She’s a spoiled little baby. And she wears glasses.”

  I listen to the banter. Maybe it’s because there’s no anger behind their words and it’s not headed for a fight. Or maybe it’s because I may not have much time left with them. Suddenly, every second with them matters, and I want to sit back and absorb every detail.

  A shiver passes through me as I recall Marcus’s threat to kill his own father to keep me safe. There has to be another way to stop Garret.

  Mrs. Douglas click—click—clicks her way into the room. She cinches the belt of her beige trench coat around her tiny waist and grabs her bowling bag-sized Gucci purse from the counter. “Lucy, I need you to go to the printer and pick up the invitations for Brandi’s birthday party. They called yesterday to let me know they’re ready.”

  She waves a sheet of paper at me. “And here is the guest list. Address the envelopes and get them in the mail. Use your best handwriting, please. I don’t want these people thinking the children wrote them out. Also, the baker’s number is on the counter. Can you call and get the cake ordered? Make sure to have them repeat the instructions back to you. They’re the best baker in the city, but they’ve been known to make mistakes. I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of our guests.”

  Her condescending tone hits me like a dozen poisonous darts, each word stabbing into me. It’s like I mean nothing at all. Was I kidding myself to think I had become part of the family?

  My head bobs automatically, acknowledging my duties. A part of me wonders what it would be like to tell her off. Just this once. What does it matter if I’m not going to be around long anyway?

  “You’re an ungrateful, ugly woman, Mrs. Douglas. I work my fingers to the bone for you—and so does Charlene, your loyal housekeeper—and you treat us like crap. Your children get more affection from us, the hired help, than they’ve ever gotten from you. Why have kids if you’re not going to love them? Or spend time with them? It seems cruel to keep them around if you’re only going to resent them.”

  But then I glance at Brandi who clenches her hands to her chest, a huge smile on her face at the preparations being made for her big day. Ethan shifts from one leg to the other, quiet but impatient, his eyes glued to his mother. It’s what I call the Ethan dance. It stops only when Mrs. Douglas bends down to give him a hug. Then the deep crease between his brows smoothes away, and his pursed lips ease into a small smile.

  I clench my jaw, biting back my words, and I wait for the door to close. Then I check out the list on the table.

  I gasp. “Thirty kids are coming to your party?”

  “So, you agree it should be held at a restaurant.” Ethan raises his eyebrows at me.

  I pat him on the shoulder, careful not to mess his hair again. As much as he acts like a mini adult, he’s still such a little boy. Once again, I notice his big brown eyes. He and Dylan have the same eyes as their father. Same with the hair. Brandi, however, looks more like her mother with her fair skin and blue eyes. I’m guessing Mrs. Douglas’s hair color looked more like Brandi’s before she started dying it.

  “What’re you staring at me for?” Ethan grumbles. “Fine. I’ll stop complaining about the stupid birthday party. Okay?”

  “You’re the best, Ethan.” I give him a big smile.

  He rolls his eyes at me.

  “I was thinking we’d go to the pool today.”

  Ethan and Brandi both jump up to high-five me. “Yes!” They shriek in unison.

  “Call Dylan! I want him to go, too!” Ethan’s eyes bug out in anticipation.

  Where did Mr. Grumpy go?

  “Actually, he texted me last night. He’ll be here in an hour.”

  “Sweet!” Ethan punches the air.

  As the kids run off to pack their swimsuits, I join Charlene in the kitchen and give her a hug.

  “Did you hear about the birthday party?” Charlene collapses onto a stool, blowing a damp lock of hair from her eyes. She’s not wearing any makeup, and there are dark circles under her eyes. “You would think we were planning a party for the president.”

  “That’s insane. Why don’t they hire someone to help you?” It’s not like they can’t afford it.

  “She’s invited all these ladies she knows from the club. Brandi doesn’t even hang out with their kids. Those little girls are sharks. They’re going to eat her alive at her own birthday party.” Charlene leans forward, her gaze meeting mine. “For a while, Mrs. Douglas was acting like a real mom to them. Playing games and tucking them in bed at night.” She shakes her head. “I should’ve known it was too good to be true. She’s back to being her normal self.”

  Mrs. Douglas thought she was going to lose her kids to Jude last year. I noticed the change, too, and had hoped it was permanent.

  Just then, Ethan and Brandi return to the kitchen and take their seats. While they eat breakfast, I call and order the cake.
The woman at the bakery probably thinks I’m a loon after I reviewed the cake decorations and inscription three times with her. I set the notes on the counter near the phone to go over with Mrs. Douglas when she gets home.

  I quickly braid Brandi’s hair while she finishes eating.

  “Do you want more eggs?” I ask Ethan as he scrapes his plate clean.

  “Nope. I’m full.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Ethan screws his face up tight and shakes his head at me.

  As Brandi climbs off her stool, she teeters. I race to her side and grab her glass before it falls from her hands.

  “Dylan’s here!” Brandi calls out.

  Charlene grabs hold of my arm and tugs me backward. “You’re acting like a nervous mother hen. What’s going on?”

  My breath hitches. What if Ethan, Brandi, and I never work on another jigsaw puzzle together? Or snuggle on the couch and watch a movie? Or bake cookies together? What if I never feel their arms wrapped around me in a tight hug? Or smell Brandi’s strawberry shampoo?

  I turn away from Charlene and take a deep breath. “Do you two have your swimsuits?”

  Ethan holds up his backpack, and I’m relieved it’s a fraction of the size of his normal swim bag. “In here, along with my towel, goggles, and fins.”

  “Me, too!” Brandi squeaks, holding up her pink backpack.

  Dylan strolls into the kitchen. “I have mine on. Do you want to see?” he leans in and whispers in my ear.

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll pass.”

  I hand the order receipt for Brandi’s party invitations to Dylan. “We need to stop and pick these up on the way. Is Arnold in the car?”

  “I’m driving. I told Arnold to go meet up with his buddies for a few hours.”

  I pause, knowing Mrs. Douglas doesn’t like any deviation from the schedule or the rules. And she’s not a big fan of Dylan. “Are you allowed to do that?”

  “What my step-monst…my stepmother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He stares menacingly at Ethan and Brandi. “Right?”

  They both giggle, mimicking Dylan as he draws his fingers across his lips like a zipper.