Gargoyle: A Reawakening (Briarcliff Series, #2)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  Not that it mattered anymore. Kingston was an ass too—seriously. She had always thought Kingston was the one and only for her…but what if he wasn’t? What if she deserved someone better? Maybe someone like the guy in front of her now? There were hotter fish/guys in the pond. And Heather wanted to believe she had the perfect bait. She was super attractive and rich—a winning combination. What more could a guy ask for? That thought disintegrated from her mind when she expectantly turned, and the guy brushed past her like she wasn’t even standing there. Taking a bracing breath, she adjusted her jacket and smoothed her hand over her hair. “Who needs stupid boys anyway,” she grumbled angrily. Her self-induced bravado slipped quickly away and her shoulders slumped. “Who am I kidding?” she muttered. What good was her bait when no fish even wanted to bite? Why was she the one to get dumped? She let out a slow deflated breath and sighed heavily.

  Alistair searched the crowd for Simon’s peppered spikes. “Damn, where did he go?” he muttered in aggravation. This was the second time now he thought he had spotted him but it had turned out to be a girl this time. He turned back around his chest rumbling slightly with humor.

  Halfway back to the drink station, he stopped and looked over at the girl that had talked to him earlier. Her audible sighs getting louder as she stared at the ground. Dipping his head down he tried to see her face. He pulled back, a bit surprised by what he saw. Only moments before she had seemed so confident but now—there was something vulnerable…familiar in her demeanor, it gave him pause. Memories stirred in his mind of another shy girl from long ago. He leaned back and took another drink, the contents making him warm in places that had long since gone cold. He watched the play of emotions crossing the girl’s face. He could almost hear her thoughts—almost. He couldn’t read minds but he could certainly read expressions, it was a knack he had from long ago. A special trait he held onto from his past life carrying it over to his present one. The one where he was part flesh and blood, part Gargoyle, he was a Centurion, a little of both not enough of either. Stuck in between worlds, human and otherworldly, and he hated every moment…but lately, as each new phase of the moon brought him back, he noticed something. He was getting stronger, able to stay human for longer periods. Memories, once buried deep were also coming back. Not all of them, but they were more vibrant and tangible then they had been in the past. Something had changed. He didn’t know what, but he felt different. He tested his strength on Adriane and was pleased to see he was getting weaker, or else he himself was stronger. He had a different kind of connection to Adriane. They were the same but different too. It didn’t matter what it was. It simply wasn’t fair. And Alistair planned to do something about that.

  A mixed group of people stumbled past him, gathering to his side to refill their drinks. The girl was still staring down at the ground, not paying any attention to the people brushing past her. Her long dark hair had fallen forward in a thick wavy curtain as she continued to stare at the ground. Glancing at the ground, he wondered what could be so interesting. All he saw was smashed grass, dirt and a few rocks. Walking forward he ducked his head down so he could see her face. “You okay?” he asked, a frown crossing his brow.

  Heather jerked her head up, visibly relieved. She swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat. “Yeah, I was just… ah…” She shook her head and tried again. “I thought you left.”

  “You thought I left? Alistair lifted his brow curiously. “That’s why you keep staring at the ground?” he asked sounding amused.

  Heather rolled her eyes around, making a face. Why lie. “It would seem so.”

  Alistair chuckled lightly. “Why would me leaving make you do that? You don’t even know me.”

  Heather huffed out a long slow breath, her cheeks deflating. “Good question.” She contemplated her answer for a moment. “I guess…ah…I wanted to talk with you some more,” she said, rolling her shoulders forward, shrugging.

  “You wanted to talk with me more?” He slanted a knowing look in her direction.

  “Yes,” she reaffirmed, giving him an unabashed smile.

  Catching her look, Alistair felt something stir deep inside, making his heart stutter, if only for a moment. It was long enough. He grasped onto the feeling before it slipped away, his body trembled slightly from the force of the recollection. Glimmers of another girl danced through his mind, bringing the inevitable pain with it as his mind slipped into the past…

  Alistair*the past*

  Water flowed steadily down between the concrete pathways, the sandy floor sticking to the bottoms of his bare-feet, as he gave chase, moving agilely around the fluted columns. Golden leaves fell from her hair, leaving a visible trail to where she was hiding. He snuck up behind her, jumping around the white fluted column. “I got you,” he laughed out, pulling her easily into his embrace.

  “Not really,” she said reprovingly but still pressed her face against his chest relaxing against him.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice deep with emotion, running his fingers down through the length of her thick curls.

  She leaned back and looked up at him, searching his face, for what, he knew not. He lowered his face to hers, his lips hovering above.

  Nervously she giggled, turning her head away.

  Loosening his hold, he stood up once more. He placed his finger under her chin lifting her face so he could read her expressive eyes. “Why must you always turn away from me?” he asked, his laughter dying out, growing serious.

  “Oh Alistair, why are you always so serious, tis just a silly game, remember?” she asked, her green eyes glittering with humor.

  Before he had a chance to answer, she ducked out from his embrace and took off again.

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, he bent down to pick up one of the golden leaves that had fallen from her hair. He leaned back against the column, twirling it between his fingers. The lilting sound of her laughter drifted back to him on the wind. Gently he tucked the leaf into the folds of his cloak. He sighed and again the sound of her lilting laughter reached his ears… “You will be the death of me,” he said and then took off after her…

  The truth of those words lingered as his mind came back to the present. He stared blankly down at the girl.

  “You okay,” she asked her fingers caressing his bare arm, a mask of concern on her pretty face. “You look…lost,” she said.

  A bitter laugh escaped at the irony. He was lost. His emotions bubbled to the surface, threatening to consume him. He felt like he was drowning…until one distinct emotion overrode the rest…anger. He shook from it, fighting. He was on the verge of turning into a volatile force that may explode at any given moment….

  The girl stepped forward, her hand still moving up and down on his arm. He looked down at her hand—her fingers soft…gentle. The anger that had been so intense moments before slowly slipped away, turning into something else…

  Suddenly he didn’t care if she was the one he longed for and he didn’t care if she could stop this tortuous cycle his life had taken. He didn’t think. Reaching out, he grabbed the girl in front of him, to divert his energy, to feed his lust, to feed his human self. Pulling her pliable body roughly against the length of his own, he merely took what he wanted. Pressing his lips against hers, he delved his tongue into her open mouth, kissing her deeply. She moaned, tightening her hold. The action spurred something from deep inside. He welcomed it. It was exactly what he needed right now. His hand traveled freely up the length of her body. He could feel her eagerness… her need…he slid his hand lower massaging the soft curve of her ass through her tight fitting jeans. She was not the one he wanted, really…but right now he didn’t care. He wanted to be inside of her so badly he hurt with it.

  HAUNTED

  SATURDAY * 9:03 PM

  Adriane’s mind came back to the present. His eyes refocused on the here and now, not the past. He looked down at the girls pressed up against him and pulled his arms away, shaking the girls loose. It took some doing, but they finally re
linquished their hold.

  “Where are you going?” they whined out as he stepped away.

  Feeling confused, he raked his hand through his hair. “Sorry ladies, I must ah…” He saw two girls stumble out of the tree line fixing their clothes. “Use the bathroom,” he said, not able to think of anything better.

  “Oh we can take you,” they said as they tried to make a grab for him once more.

  “No!” he yelled, and then softened his voice. “I mean, it’s best if I go by myself. I will be back soon though.” He saw the look of disbelief on their faces, and then added, “Promise.”

  They both looked to one another, and then back to him expectantly. “You promise?” they repeated.

  “Sure,” he lied. He had no intention of returning. Truth was he would have said anything to get away from them. They were setting his nerves on edge. He guessed they were innocent enough, at least he hoped they were. It would not be the first time he had been taken in by seemingly innocent creatures. Turning towards the wind he lifted his chin. The breeze whispered across his face, bringing thoughts of another to the forefront of his mind. Not what he remembered from the past, no, this was of the one he had met the night before, the one that made him forget.

  ***

  Moriah sat on the stairs, staring at the ground as another band hit the stage. It was Love Darling. Perfect. Her chest tightened, and she let out a shaky breath, her lip starting to quiver as they began to play Hazy. Love Darling was one of the bands Kingston had gotten to show because she loved their music so much. A lot of good it did when he was nowhere in sight. Her sadness quickly turned to anger. His head was probably still crammed up Heather’s ass.

  “Well aren’t you a pretty one.”

  Moriah looked up at the guy standing in front of her, raking a hand through his black and white streaked hair, making it stick out at awkward angles.

  “Thanks.” She sighed.

  “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sad,” he said sincerely, his brows creasing.

  “Who said I was sad?” she asked in surprised. Oh great—she must look really pathetic if a complete stranger could tell she was upset.

  “May I?” he asked, pointing to the empty space beside her.

  “Sure, it’s a free country,” she said despondently, not really caring either way.

  He laughed lightly, the melodic sound deep and warm.

  Moriah turned towards him. His dark eyes danced in merriment as he smiled warmly at her. She shivered lightly.

  “I am Simon, by the way—you know, in case you were wondering,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

  “Moriah,” she offered her name freely, wondering if he was drunk or if he was just one of those crazy happy people. He kept smiling. He looked like he was biting back a laugh. Maybe he was doing some kind of drug? Yeah, maybe he was stoned. Stoners thought everything was funny. Still, she smiled back at him, not able to help herself.

  “Party not to your liking?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not that. The party is great…”

  “It’s great?” he asked, lifting his brow like he didn’t believe her.

  She wrinkled her face. “Well it would be, if my boyfriend wasn’t such a jerk,” she muttered.

  “Come again?” he asked, lifting his hand to his ear, clearly missing what she said.

  “It’s not important.” She leaned forward and propped her chin on her hand.

  “Okay. But hey, if you want to talk…you got two good ears sitting right next to you….just saying.”

  Moriah turned, ready to say thanks but no thanks but once she looked at him…really looked at him she kind-of forgot what she wanted to say. He was leaning back against the stair. His exceedingly tight black t-shirt clung to his muscled chest tucked-in the front of his black skinny jeans. He wore a batman seatbelt belt. Her gaze drifted down to his feet, his bright red Chuck Taylors, they were real showstoppers. Maybe he was gay…she was good with gay. Maybe she should use him to make Kingston jealous with no repercussions. Kingston would see her with him and get his ass away from Heather. She smiled warmly at him, her mind spinning variables.

  Simon leaned forward and put his chin in his hand, staring out into the crowd. Moriah couldn’t help but stare at his profile. He had angular features and long dark lashes cast out across flawless skin, all that and nice lips too. He looked like a model, or he could be with skin that nice. Her skin only looked that good with makeup. His was perfect. Maybe he was a model. He had a really nice body, not too big, not too small and cut. His arm muscles bulged under the sleeve of his shirt and he had a crazy tattoo on the inside of his left arm, which was seriously cool looking. Evie would freak if she saw it.

  Speaking of Evie, where was she? She hadn’t seen her since she took off to get them drinks. That was at least an hour ago now. Hopefully, she was having fun. She still felt really bad for leaving her with Colton last night. Especially, now that she knew what a “wad” he was. Of course, Evie never said as much but she could tell. Once she got Evie alone she would make her spill. They would curl up on Evie’s bed and fill each other in on all the stuff that happened—like they always did, staying up half the night laughing together, stuffing their faces with chips, salsa, and chocolate. Moriah loved it when they did that. Evie was hilarious and always had some funny story to tell.

  “So dove you want to tell why are you sitting all alone?” Simon asked, turning towards her, his steely gray eyes glittering.

  Moriah gaped at him. “Did you just call me dove?”

  Is that all right?” he asked, a ready smile pulling the corners of his mouth upward.

  “Um, yea, sure, why not,” she said, in shock. Dove? Seriously? Kingston had never called her anything close to that and she was sleeping with his ass. She smiled openly at him, not able to help herself, suddenly hoping he wasn’t gay after all.

  “Why not indeed,” he said simply and turned quickly, pushing a leggy brunette, in a tight spandex print dress upright who was about to fall backward down the stairs.

  “Whoa, thanks handsome,” the girl said, smiling down at him, and then gave Moriah an inquisitive stare before bringing her eyes back to Simon. “You get tired of her,” she stressed the word, “You come see me. I’m April, by the way, as in showers.”

  “Showers…” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” she said in a sultry tone. “As in, I’d be more than happy to shower you with some good–hot-love…I can go all night.” She reached down and squeezed his muscled arm, laughing throatily. She gave him a wink for good measure before stumbling back up the stairs following her friends into the mansion.

  Moriah frowned. Whore. She was sitting right beside him and that chick had practically invited him to do her. Most guys would have jumped at the chance to do her, and yet Simon didn’t say anything to the girl. No, he merely smiled politely, turned back around, and placed his chin back in his hand, looking out into the crowd seemingly oblivious to the flagrant invitation she had given him. Maybe he just didn’t care….but all guys cared…didn’t they? She frowned down at her hands folded in her lap. Maybe he really was gay…crap.

  She had no idea where that surge of jealousy had come from. Why should she even care? She loved Kingston, and yet here she sat, with a guy she didn’t even know, calling girls whores for hitting on him. Moriah had no idea what her problem was. Still she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the boy named Simon. She adjusted on the stair and smiled over at him again, clearing her throat to get his attention. He didn’t’ budge. Not to be deterred she leaned forward. “You smell nice,” she blurted, and then bit her lip. What was she doing? She sounded like an idiot.

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “Thank you,” he said, and then promptly turned away and looked back at the crowd of people milling about in front of them.

  Moriah opened her mouth and then shut it. What? She thought he would say something to her, like she smelled nice too, or she was something—anything, but he didn’t. Feeling incredibly self-conscious sud
denly, she shifted on the stair and looked back at Simon. It was hard not to look at him. There was something so alluring about him, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her stomach flipped over, making her feel slightly sick but that didn’t stop her from stealing glances at him from under her lashes, trying to watch his every move even though she pretended not to.

  Simon lifted his cup and took a slow pull on his drink. He could feel her tracking his movements and smiled into his cup. Well, now, he was happy to see his certain something had not fled. He had wondered if it had since he changed. Obviously, he was still utterly amazing. He had always been irresistible to the female persuasion. A long time ago, in his previous life, so long in fact, he had almost forgotten…he had been a rock star. Girls fell all over themselves to get near him. They couldn’t keep their hands from his body. Of course, he had been more than happy to accommodate them all. Now, sitting here with this pretty girl beside him, he felt stirrings of his old self-come to the forefront. Setting his cup down he decided to test the waters, to see how much of his “it” he still had. He turned toward her and locked eyes with hers. “Is there something you want…dove?” he asked and slowly raked his eyes down her shapely body, then brought them back to her face, lifting his brow in question.

  Moriah shivered. “Ah…” She bit her lip, nervously twirling a strand of her long blonde hair around her finger.

  “Yes dove.” He let his gaze linger on her full lips momentarily. “Well…?” he asked lifting his eyes back to hers.

  “I wondered…if um…” Conflicting emotions battled against one another in her mind. Part of her wanted to go and find Kingston but another part…a part that was quickly overriding the other…wanted to lean forward and kiss his perfect lips…if only for a moment…