Gargoyle: A Reawakening (Briarcliff Series, #2)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  The wind picked up strength, gusting around the corner of the mansion. A loud, grossed-out sounding –groan, was expelled by nearly every female in the line as the unmistakable stench of someone’s “number two” sucked all the freshness out of the air. No wonder the line wasn’t moving. Quickly she lifted her shirt back over her face to cover the smell but it wasn’t working. One of the girls behind her was complaining loudly about the lack of usable toilets and she had to agree. Who has a big ass party and only has one Jiffy-John? And it wasn’t like Kingston didn’t have enough money to buy a truckload …oh well, who knew, maybe only one John was available. Right.

  Bouncing up and down she crossed her legs like most of the other girls in line. It wasn’t helping. Actually it kind-of made it worse. A few more girls dropped from the line and ran off into the woods and she was trying to decide if that was the avenue she wanted to take. As if on cue, some random guy with a shaved tatted-head stumbled out from behind a tree, yanking up his leather pants and then jerking up his zipper. His dark eyes caught hers. “See something you like?” he laughed out, stepping closer to her.

  Evie looked up at him. “Ah—No.” He lifted his brow in response to her snappy retort, shook his head, and laughed stupidly in her face. She stepped back reflexively, which made him laugh even harder before he brushed past her and headed back into the fold of the crowd.

  Creep. That was it. She was done waiting. At this rate, she would end up missing the entire party. She stepped out of the line and walked around to the front of the mansion to check to see if a usable bathroom was inside. Dodging some people sitting on the stairs she made her way to the doorway. More people were gathered in clusters hanging around the edges. The ugly statues she had seen earlier with Moriah, now each had a red cup perched jauntily on top of their heads, making them appear as though they were wearing little red makeshift hats. They looked silly now, but she still gave them a wide berth as she bolted inside the door.

  The stale odor of the room hit her once again when she stepped inside the foyer. She still didn’t like it, but soon another sharper, pungent scent filled the air intermixing with the musty odor. She looked around for the source. Two guys dressed completely in black were sitting on the stairs, passing a joint off to each other. The thick smoke swirled around their heads, making the room hazy. She walked further inside, looking for a door that might be a bathroom. Heck at this rate she would pee in a bucket if one was around. The farther she walked into the room, the more uneasy she became. Her eyes automatically went to the side of the stairs, where the statue had been the previous day. The spot was still empty. She didn’t know what she had been expecting. An eerie feeling spread through her as she looked at the stairs, the carpet was torn, exposing the stone underneath. Her body shivered, remembering how her fingers held onto that same carpet, for dear-life, just a day ago. She shivered again, remembering the guy who had sat next to her on those same stairs. Funny. When he was beside her, she didn’t give the thing that attacked her a second thought. It was only now that he was gone that she remembered the terror she had felt.

  The wrought iron chandelier jangled in the wind pulling her gaze higher, up to the painted dome in the center of the ceiling. Large winged creatures floated amongst the billowy clouds. Earlier, she had thought they were cherubs, but now they looked different. They looked larger, darker…creepier. Actually, she couldn’t be sure what they were, since the ugly yellow glow from the blubs were hard to see past. It didn’t matter though; it still made her feel—uncomfortable. She lowered her head and rubbed the back of her neck. The two guys that were on the stairs were now staring at her. She smiled awkwardly and pulled her hoodie around her midsection more.

  “You want some.” The thinner of the two asked, his voice coming out stilted as he pulled air further back into his lungs, holding the joint out to her.

  She shook her head back and forth. “Nah—I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

  Smoke filled the air as he finally expelled it. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and handed the joint back off to his buddy.

  Evie smiled nervously at them both, at least they were normal…well, kind-of. She turned to walk back to the open door. The cool breeze blew against her, ruffling her hair. She still needed to use the bathroom, but wasn’t sure she wanted to go back inside and look for one. Maybe she should just go behind a bush it seemed safer somehow. She eyed the area, trying to see where would be the best place to go and then glanced down to her right. There was a big bush blocked by the stairs on one side and a small tree on the other. Perfect.

  A short time later, she crawled out from behind the bushes, doing a quick check while adjusting her skirt and fixing her shirt, making sure, nothing was hanging out. Satisfied she climbed back up the stairs. Now, as she leaned against the column on the front stairs her mind strayed back to the guy from the night before. She still wondered where he could have gone. And what about her attack? What the hell was that? Could she have really imagined that part? There were so many unanswered questions swirling in her mind, it was starting to give her a headache, and it was definitely ruining her fun. She had to stop.

  Reaching up, she tugged nervously on her little Wolfie choker, making him snap back and forth on the cord tied around her neck. Her raven pendant had gone MIA, which sucked, but was another testament that her fight with the unknown creature may have been realer than she thought.

  The sound of Sarah Fimm’s voice coasted over her, the evocative lyrics of Afraid resonating to her core, filling her with a growing sense of unease and dread. Turning she looked behind her, she felt like she was being watched. The two guys’ from earlier, that were on the stairs were now gone. And still she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. Peering further inside the foyer, she leaned around the door. Sure enough, someone was there… correction two someone’s.

  A petite girl with short spiky platinum hair was busy rubbing her hands over the back of some beefy guy as she grinded against his leg. It looked like they were about to throw down and have a full-blown romp-session.

  “Wow,” she mouthed, and walked quickly back out the door. An image of the guy she had met last night slammed into her mind. The way he looked at her at this very spot. Sarah Fimm’s voice sounded warbled as she said her goodbyes to the crowd. Reaching out she grabbed hold of the column to her right to stop from falling over. Her vision skewed, a blur of shadowy shapes climbed onto the stage. Shaking her head, she tried to focus. Someone bumped into her.

  “Sorry,” they mumbled out, bumping into her once more, harder. She fumbled to keep hold on the column, the feeling of helplessness closing in on her. Her hand slipped a few times but finally she planted it against the chipped surface. Forcing her brain to stay in the now, and her eyes to focus, finally her vision cleared. Another band was about to play. The lead singer had jet-black hair that stuck out in awkward angles from his head. He was dressed all in black and his pallid complexion was in stark contrast to the darkening sky. He looked like a vampire.

  A spotlight flicked on the stage, cloaking the band in an ethereal glow. The drums kicked in, the heavy beat shaking everything in the general vicinity. The lead guitar followed with the low, constant thrum of the bass, pulling every instrument together in a menagerie of haunting poignancy. The singer grabbed the microphone belting out the lyrics to Trying to Connect with you; the ever-growing crowd went wild. She knew what band it was now, their name suited them— The Vampire Bats. They were another good fit for CRAVE. She concentrated solely on the music, forcing herself to have a good time no matter what.

  REMEBRANCE

  SATURDAY * 8:47 PM

  Heavy branches swayed in the wind breaking into the stream of light from the stage, making it flicker. The heavy thrum of music sent tingling sensations over his body, making his muscles jump. Adriane watched two girls walking towards him, their arms hooked together. They looked the same. Red, vibrant hair tied back into long ponytails. Their complexions, pale. They giggled with one anoth
er, their wobbly gait picking up speed as they approached.

  Adriane smiled at them even though the simple act felt awkward. He used to smile often, in another time. Sadness settled over him. He pushed the memories away, keeping them at bay before they overtook him once more and shoved his hand in his pocket. The tips of his fingers grazed across the small circular pendant, the glass stone smooth to the touch.

  “Hey there,” they called in unison, skidding to an abrupt halt in front of him.

  The shrillness of their combined voices made his ears ring. “Hey,” he replied, looking past them through the throng of people.

  “We’re twins,” they giggled out, each separate voice overlapping the other.

  “I gathered that,” he said, unimpressed, shoving his hands in his pockets once more.

  They giggled again, covering their mouths with their ghostly white hands.

  Stepping forward, he saw a familiar face cutting through the crowd…his heart immediately picking up pace…could it be?

  The girls tracked his gaze, and gave one another a knowing look. They too stepped to the side and deliberately blocked his view.

  Adriane frowned down at them and moved again, stepping further away. They moved forward, giggling, closing in. At first, he was amused, but now he was beginning to feel like prey. Apparently, some things had not changed so much over time. He was starting to think there was more to worry about in this world, besides Degare’.

  “We can do things together,” they said suddenly, shrilly in unison.

  “Really, that’s great,” he said just to placate them. His eyes scanned the crowd. When they stepped closer, he sidestepped their advance once again and continued looking. “Where did you go?” he sighed and then felt a light smack on his arm. He looked down.

  One of the girls was holding her ghostly white hand. It looked like she might cry.

  “My, what big broad shoulders you have,” the other one remarked, pushing the one that was about to cry out of the way, her gaze calculating as she placed her unusually cold hands on his arm. Not to be outdone, the one that was about to cry walked over to his other side and quickly grabbed his free arm.

  Suddenly he felt trapped. His blood ran cold. They reminded him of another time from long ago, making his mind yank backward… back where it did not want to go. He tried to lift his hands to the sides of his head…to stop the flow of memories, but it was too late.

  Adriane*the past*

  The darkness of night surrounded him, closing in on all sides. His arms stretched tautly between two mortared columns, the heavy metal bands clasped firmly around his wrists. The chains clanked loudly as he pulled against them, trying to break free—the cold air turning his breath white as it swirled around his head clouding his vision.

  Two hooded figures emerged from the shadows flanking either side of him. Their long gnarled fingers worked the chains from the columns. The restraints that bound him fell heavily to the ground. His arms were dead weight at his sides. The hooded figures, grabbed the chains, pulling him forward. He stumbled… falling to his knees, they jerked him back up, pulling him towards the clearing. He tried to pull back, his muscles protesting, painfully as he fought for freedom.

  A rock jutted up from the ground, blackened smears across the top. No! He cried out, pulling harder, using every bit of strength he had left in his body. His mind spun in circles. Memories bombarded him, like a whip, snapping, as pain shot through his head. Angry tears filled his eyes, burning them. He jerked back, screaming… remembering what he really was….

  CURIOSITY

  SATURDAY * 9:07 PM

  The station for booze was set up away from the stage, towards the opposite side of the mansion. At least the stench of urine wasn’t sucking up all the fresh air over here. Evie picked her way through the crowd and took her place in line. She hoped something would be left by the time she got to the front. A crowd of girls hurried away. A tall, dark haired guy moved to the front of the line and lifted the lid to the huge Igloo vat, dipping another cup into the mixture. He had three. Evie knew what it was: Barnaby’s Jungle Juice. The drinks to choose from were on the slim side, cheap keg beer or mind-eff alcohol. She couldn’t decide which one she wanted to drink. She stared sightlessly ahead, trying to make up her mind while listening to another band hit the stage.

  Alistair froze. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply, pulling in and savoring the sweet unmistakable smell. The rhythm of his heart picked up, beating faster. Tingling sensations spread across his skin. The smell was…intoxicating. He reached out and filled another cup, waiting…

  Evie puffed out her cheeks and expelled another gusty breath, while she waited for the booze hog to move. Gawd, was his ass gonna drink it all? She was about to say something but then he reached out his arm. Her stomach did a funky flip. There was a tattoo on the inside of his arm. She remembered that tattoo from last night. Wiping her damp palms on her skirt, she tried to get her rampant emotions under control. Was that him? Leaning to her left, she tried to get a better view but someone cut right in front of her.

  “Move your ass, Evie,” Heather bit out, parading past quickly, flipping her hair, butting in front of her.

  Evie ducked quickly out of the way before Heather’s long hair smacked her in the face. Bitch.

  “Hey dude, you planning on hogging it all?” Heather asked nastily.

  Alistair turned slowly around, his black eyes amused. “Well I wasn’t, but I can,” he assured her.

  Heather gaped in shock. Not from his words though. No, not that. He was, without a doubt, the hottest guy she had seen… ever. She immediately regretted being snide with him. “Ha! I was so kidding. Take another if you like.” She lifted her hand towards the igloo.

  Alistair looked her up and down, trying to decide which would serve him best. He wasn’t completely sure if she was the one. He could still smell her, but she didn’t look the way he expected. She was pretty though. This human had long black curling hair and crystal blue eyes. Her lips a light shade of pink, pressed together in a firm line, sizing him up as he did the same to her. He nearly laughed.

  Stepping back to dodge Heather’s hair again, Evie wanted to yank it from her head. The way Heather was swinging her hair around reminded her of a horse’s tail. And every time she tried to get a look at the guy, Heather big ass shifted and blocked her view completely. There was no way she was giving up. She dropped from the line and stepped through a crowd of people at her side.

  “Sorry, excuse me,” she said apologetically, ducking her head as she squeezed between the warm bodies. Once she was on the other side, it was even harder to see.

  “Damn!”

  Not only was Kingston skimpy on the toilets he was also a cheapo when it came to the lights. The only ones lit were shinning directly on the stage and the booze table. So Heather and the guy were both cast in dark shadows. Not to be deterred she cut back across the grass, her shoes were soaking wet. She hoped it was from the dew or booze. “Please don’t be piss,” she muttered while veering quickly to the left to avoid colliding with a half-naked guy climbing out from the bushes.

  ***

  Simon yanked the t-shirt over his head, climbing out of the bushes. It was tight. He yanked the material down again letting out a frustrated sigh. He had two choices, either the too tight shirt or the way loose one. He fingered the material. It was lightweight and had a nice feel to it; he definitely preferred this one. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted a foot protruding from under the bush. It was red.

  “Sweet!” He loved red shoes. The ones on his own feet were stained and boring white. Nonchalantly he looked around making sure he wasn’t being watched, and then jumped back into the bushes.

  A short time later, he crawled back out, wiggling his toes in the heavy material of the shoes. The bright red color made him smile. He glanced back over his shoulder.

  “Shit!”

  A bare foot stuck out from under the bush. Whistling, he backed up and once he was close enough, he kic
ked the now bare foot back under the bush.

  Satisfied no other body parts were visible, he took off towards the crowd. Mid-step he stopped. The wind had changed as suddenly as the music. He lifted his head, catching the scent. It made his pulse race.

  “There’s a live one in the crowd.” He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. He followed the scent, his muscles jumping reflexively in anticipation as the smell became more prevalent. His mouth began to water. “Just. Like. Candy,” he said before dashing off into the midst of the crowd.

  INDULGENCE

  SATURDAY * 9:17 PM

  “So what is your name?” Heather asked sweetly, sizing the guy up in front of her, and took a delicate sip of her drink.

  “Alistair,” he supplied easily. Looking her over, she was an eager one. He breathed in her scent. She wasn’t the live one he had smelled earlier—no, she would be a waste of his time, not giving him what he really needed, but this one, she was pretty.

  “Alistair,” Heather repeated, feeling the distinct name tumble off her tongue. “Are you Greek?” she asked, trying to sound coy, batting her mascara coated lashes at him. He certainly looked Greek—as in Greek God. Seriously, it didn’t get much better than the guy standing in front of her now. She pressed her shoulders back, flipping her hair slightly. It was a practiced move—one that she mastered to show off her endowments along with her crowning glory, her hair. Slowly she lifted her eyes to his face, fully expecting him to be “hooked” on her line…

  “Not again,” she muttered. He was looking intently over her shoulder, like he was interested in someone standing behind her. And she knew who it was. First Moriah stole her boyfriend and now stupid Evie was probably going to steal this guy too. Heather was tired of …them. All she ever heard was how sweet and cool Evie was, and how hot whore-face Moriah was. They were little better than trash in her book. They didn’t even have money. Evie dressed like a moron with her thrift shop clothes and cheap jewelry. Heather knew if it wasn’t for Evie’s dumbass, introducing Kingston to Moriah she’d probably still be dating him instead of Moriah. At least that is what she wanted to believe.