Gargoyle: A Reawakening (Briarcliff Series, #2)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  Feeling the air stir beside him, Colton swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from the massive beast for a millisecond. He caught sight of Barnaby’s retreating form. “Oh hell no!” He didn’t waste another minute, he too turned and ran as fast as his feet would carry him, pushing through the crowd, as if the hounds of hell were chasing them both down.

  ***

  “Alistair, move your ass!” Simon shouted, running full speed toward the tree line.

  “What?” Alistair asked confused, completely out of it. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face.

  Heather reached up and tried to pull his face back to her own while trying to wrap her leg around him once more.

  Alistair leaned backward shaking his head back and forth. “I gotta go,” he said, disentangling her body from his.

  “What?” Heather squawked. “You can’t just leave.” Her eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Sorry,” he said. “If you see Adriane, tell him there’s a hot one on the loose.” And then he was gone.

  Heather stood there stupidly. Her mouth hanging open, her blue eyes bugging from her head, as the guy she had been massively making out with ran as fast and as far from her as possible. She wanted to yell, or cry. She didn’t know which. Clenching her hands into fists, her long nails biting into her skin, hot angry tears filled her eyes. Lifting her hand, she dashed them away, finally remembering what he had said. “There’s a hot one on the loose?” What was that supposed to mean? “And who in the hell is Adriane?”

  INTUITION

  SATURDAY * 10:18 PM

  The moons position should have been a warning but once again, Adriane let his wants overshadow his good sense. Now it was too late. The snarling beast poised itself to rip her head off…

  “RUN!”

  One moment Evie was standing beside Adriane and the next her face was eating dirt. Within seconds, her body jerked back to standing, hands shoving her forward. She could hear the frantic tone of his voice but couldn’t see why. There was dirt in her eyes. She tried to wipe it away.

  “Evie, RUN!” Adriane yelled louder, frantically, trying to propel her to move.

  Evie ran, or tried to …stumbling…trying to push her way through the wall of people. She was bumped, pushed and nearly fell back to the ground. She had no idea where she was going or how she remained standing. She wiped at her face wildly, trying to clear the dirt from her eyes. Blurred shapes darted past her spinning her in another direction. Loud screams sounded in the air. Something or someone flew over her head and landed at her feet. She barely had a chance to sidestep whatever it was before she pitched forward. Something had her foot. She froze for a millisecond. Not again. And then stomped down hard with her free foot and was rewarded by a startled gasp of pain. Whatever had her foot let go.

  “Evie, help me.”

  Evie froze, her body filling with dread. Oh no, did she just kick the shit out of someone she knew? Her body shook as she turned back around, scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve so she could see. “Evie…” someone called again from another direction. She spun around, but still had no idea where it was coming from or even how she could hear anyone with all the screaming going on around her.

  Everything was chaos.

  Large masses of people ran frantically up the drive, plowing over the drunks in the process. What the hell—was there a fire or something? And where was Adriane? Why did he scream run? She didn’t know what was going on but whatever it was, had to be bad. An overwhelming feeling of dread pressed in on her as she looked towards the mansion, reminding her of last night. “No,” she mouthed the word, shaking her head. “You’re being ridiculous,” she told herself. Obviously, there weren’t any monsters floating around in the mansion if people were trying to shove their way inside. But if there weren’t any monsters, than what was everyone running from? She wiped her eyes again, her mascara burned.

  The lawn was nearly empty now. A guy wearing nothing but a pair of tighty whities and one sock ran past. “Hey,” she shouted.

  He stopped. Small leaves dangled from his hair. He turned crazed eyes on her. She immediately regretted stopping him; he was freaking her the fuck out. “Why is everyone running?”

  “Maaaa-Dooo, “he said, trying to turn to leave.

  “Wait. Mado?” she repeated, sort of. “Is that a person?” she asked.

  He shook his head frantically making tiny leaves fall from his hair down to the ground. “Maaaad Dooooog,” he said.

  “Mad Dog?” she asked, sure she had heard him wrong.

  He shook his head again, making more leaves fall out of his hair and then took off running toward the drive.

  This time she didn’t’ bother to stop him. She kind-of wished she didn’t stop him at all now. He really freaked her out, more so than she was to start with. Reflexively she looked over her shoulder fully expecting the “Mad Dog” in question to be directly behind her. Of course, it was just a knee jerk reaction to his explanation that didn’t make any real sense. “Puhlease Mad Dog? Come on.” He was probably tripping on something.

  Across the yard, a few more people ran past cutting through the woods that dumped out on the drive further up. Cups littered the ground, the grass turned over on its side, flattened. It looked like a stampede had just come through, which she guessed was a close enough analogy at this point. Her stomach twisted and she wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. Normally, doing that gave her some kind of comfort, not now though. It was like something was gnawing from the inside of her stomach, trying to get out. She knew what it was…fear.

  Walking towards the stage a lone spotlight turned over on its side, the white light making a halo on the ground in front. A pair of graffiti converse poked out from underneath, shaking violently. Her stomach lurched at the sight. She struggled with her conscience, fighting the urge not to run away, and instead made herself move forward. She knew who those shoes belonged to…Chance.

  FRIGHT

  SATURDAY * 10:28 PM

  “Oh hell NO!” Evie hesitantly took a step forward. Chance’s shoes were still snapping back and forth violently. She did not want to do this but she forced her feet to move forward. Taking a shaky breath, she leaned forward and tried to see underneath the stage, through the scaffolding.

  “Shit! SHIT!” It was too dark and she couldn’t see a damn thing. She began to question her sanity. “What in the hell am I doing? I’m no hero.” She wanted to run away, screaming, like the rest of the crowd, but something held her in place. She had to help him. Horrific visions of Jaws scenes came to the forefront of her mind. Images of the chewed remains of a body in her hands made her stomach lurch. She took a breath and reached down grabbing hold of his feet, squeezing her eyes shut while she jerked back with all her might and forced her eyes open…terrified.

  “Hey!” Chance slurred sounding annoyed, pulling his ear buds out.

  “What the hell Chance?” She dropped his feet. Relief flooded her body.

  “What up, Evester…you coming to hang with me?”

  “No! I am not coming to hang with you!” she yelled, her face turning five shades of red but she couldn’t’ help herself. He had scared her shitless.

  “Why not?” he asked obviously confused.

  “Good lord Chance—I thought something had you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Chance’s eyes widened, as he looked at the scene before him. “Where did all the people go?”

  “Gee Chance they ran.”

  “Huh…from what?” he asked, running his hands over the ground, looking for his wayward drink.

  Damn, he was slow. “I don’t know,” Evie, answered. Not caring to explain she doubted it would help anyway.

  “Huh. Well you gonna go find out? I’ll come with.”

  Evie shook her head. What was the point? “Sure, that would be great.” She held out her hand to him. He grabbed it easily and she pulled him up. He swayed on his feet. She looked him over just to be sure he was in one piece. He looked normal
enough, burnt, but normal…at least for Chance. She was just glad he wasn’t shark bait. Now that would have really sucked.

  He fondly wrapped an arm around Evie’s shoulders. “I’m glad you found me.”

  “Yeah, me too Chance, me too,” she added, holding him up as he swayed into her once more. She looked around hoping to see some sign of Adriane… her heart heavy and hoped against hope that he was all right as well.

  ***

  “Why are we running?” Moriah panted breathlessly as Kingston jerked her forward up the stairs. She felt like her arm was going to be dislocated at any moment.

  Kingston ignored her and merely kept dragging her along to the side of the mansion. He pulled her further up the stairs to the terrace and finally stopped in front of a pair of double glass doors.

  Moriah ripped her hand from his. “What the hell Kingston?” she yelled out.

  He turned towards her, making her regret saying anything. His eyes were crazed, frightened.

  His breath came out in ragged gasps. He ran his hands over his face and bent over trying to catch his breath. “I have no clue.”

  “Well if you don’t have a clue, than why we running?” she asked again, worry making her voice harsh.

  “Obviously something is wrong. I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around and get trampled by all the drunks killing one another out there,” he bit back, obviously agitated.

  “Okay, calm down babe,” she said, trying to alleviate the worry she saw on his face. “You know how drunks are, who knows what happened, maybe someone yelled fire or something stupid like that.”

  He shook his head back and forth chuckling lightly. “I wish.”

  “You wish what?” she asked worriedly.

  “Babe, I’ve got this gut feeling that something seriously messed up is about to happen”

  “Okay, then why aren’t we getting out of here?”

  “Didn’t you see the crowd? They were pouring in droves up the drive; I didn’t want us to get trampled or worse…” he said, looking pointedly at her.

  “Kingston you are scaring me.”

  “Come here,” he said, reaching out to pull her into his embrace.

  Moriah walked into his open arms, and wrapped her own around his waist. She laid her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat erratically. She pulled away just enough to look at his face…she could see he was afraid…but afraid of what?

  Colton ran as fast as his feet would carry him. He had picked up speed, flying past Barnaby, leaving him in his dust. Colton was always good at track and field, and that combined with fear made him more fleet of foot than normal. Fear had a way of doing that. His dad had given him a card once for his birthday. It had a picture of a bear chasing a guy on the front. It was a funny card. It said you don’t have to outrun the bear, only your friends. He was doing that now. His dad would be proud. A sob tore from his throat. He didn’t want Barnaby to be bear bait. He slowed his pace when he hit the side of the mansion, and quickly ducked behind a bush, hiding. He peered out, his breath coming in shortened, ragged gasps. He spotted a tree with low hanging branches and debated whether he should try to climb up it or not.

  Once Barnaby saw Colton bolt past him, he picked up his pace. He be damned if he was the one to become hell-dog food. He had watched one too many horror flicks, the slow ones always got it first. At least there were a good number of drunken bodies behind him, too messed up to move fast enough to get away.

  It was pitch black on this side of the mansion. He slowed his pace as he got to the side and jumped behind a bush. Something grabbed at him. “Ahhhhhhhhh…” Barnaby screamed out, batting whatever it was with the palms of his hands.

  “Man, it’s me,” Colton whispered loudly, knocking Barnaby’s hands away.

  “Oh shit!” Barnaby huffed. “Sorry man. What the hell was that?”

  “Dude, I have no idea. But I’ll tell you this, whatever it was looked worse than CUJO,” Colton said.

  “You got that right,” Barnaby agreed looking around, not feeling safe at all. “Dude, I don’t think we should stay here.”

  “I know, but where should we go? I was thinking about climbing that tree over there.”

  Barnaby looked over at the low hanging limbs. “No way,” he said, quickly discarding the idea.

  “Well do you have a better idea?” Colton complained.

  “We should get inside the mansion and lock ourselves in one of the big ass rooms.”

  “Right…that totally makes sense. Good thinking man,” Colton said.

  Barnaby shook his head up and down in agreement. “Is there a window we can crawl in?”

  “Yup, I saw one down there. Follow me,” Colton said, pushing past Barnaby, sliding down behind the row of bushes. The bushes pulled and scraped at his bare arms. He didn’t care. He only wanted to get inside the mansion.

  Barnaby followed behind him, grabbing onto his shirt as Colton led the way.

  Colton stopped in front of one of the tall windows. The bottom reached the top of his head. “Dude, this is high. How are we gonna get inside?”

  Barnaby pushed in front of him. “I’ll tell you how…you’re going to lift me up so I can get inside.”

  “What? No way! Why can’t you hold me up?”

  “Because your ass is too heavy…”

  Colton looked at his body compared to Barnaby’s; suddenly wishing he didn’t work out so much. “Okay fine. Let’s get to this.” He reached out and bent forward to scoop Barnaby up in his arms.

  Barnaby smacked his hands away. “Not like that. I’m not a girl man. Put your hands together and give me a foot up.”

  “Oh right, that makes sense.” Colton hooked his hands together as Barnaby put his foot in. He hoisted him upward. “Dude you better not fart.”

  “Yeah, right, if I was gonna do that I would have already let one go when that big ass beast came out of the woods.”

  “The way that thing smelled I thought you did.”

  Barnaby laughed suddenly, he couldn’t help it. “I thought you did.”

  “I thought I did too.” Colton laughed with him. “You know, we should totally look for some weapons.”

  Barnaby pushed against the glass trying to lift the window. After a few tries it moved upward.

  “Hey, I wonder if there’s some armor in there. If there is we should put it on, like knights,” Colton said.

  Barnaby shook his head. “Dude I am not into playing dress up with you.”

  “Screw you Barnaby. I was just saying—in case…you know, that nasty Mo-foe tried to bite our asses we would be covered.”

  “And stuck—that shit is heavy,” Barnaby explained.

  “I don’t care what you do, I am getting some armor. You do what you want.”

  Barnaby was going to argue, but thought better of it. “Yeah man, totally put some armor on.”

  “Right, I will,” Colton muttered into his backside.

  “Good, you do that,” Barnaby called over his shoulder, once he got the window open. Something grabbed hold of him and yanked him inside.

  Barnaby screamed.

  “Dude you okay?” Colton called worriedly. “Man I’m not kidding.” He rubbed his hands over his face freaking out. Something had gotten Barnaby. He was a good friend too, he mused, imagining a million horrible scenarios befalling his friend.

  TWISTED

  SATURDAY * 10:30 PM

  The beast lunged forward.

  Adriane willed his body to alter. It rippled and shuddered but he couldn’t make the transition.

  “Damn!” The beast flew past, the massive jaw snapping as it went by. He ducked just in time. It sprang back up, snarling, lunging at him fully. This time he blocked it with his body, absorbing the impact and slammed it to the ground.

  It stood again, swinging its massive head back and forth, the red eyes bore down on him, and the lips curling back revealing razor sharp teeth. It lunged forward again…

  Adriane lost his concentration for a moment w
hen Simon emerged from the tree line. The beast hit him full on, knocking him backward. Grabbing the fur or what there was left of it he struggled not to lose his footing and pushed it away from his body. The foul smelling black blood seeping from the sores coated his hands, burning the palms. Pressing his mind, he tried to alter again, his muscles shaking…but he merely pulsed beneath the surface, his powers failing him once again.

  “Damnit.” He was losing the battle, he knew…his strength waning. His breath now came out in ragged gasps, as he fought to stay in one piece. “Simon…” Adriane gasped, wrestling the nasty beast, trying to force it to the ground. Its razor sharp teeth snapping loudly beside his ear, as he pushed it backward.

  Simon turned to look at him. “Alter if he is too much for you.”

  “I can’t,” Adriane ground out between gritted teeth, twisting his body to the side to avoid another deadly snap.

  “What?” Simon lifted his hand to his ear. “Sorry, can’t hear you buddy.” Served him right, he thought.

  Anger filled Adriane, making his body pulse again, rippling just beneath the surface. The awful stench of rot and excrement assailed him, his body covered in the slick wet ooze from the seeping sores of the beast. He jerked his head to the side to avoid getting part of his face bitten off while he wrestled the vile creature further to the ground. He felt himself growing weaker. “I am going to kill you if I make it out of this alive,” he warned. Not that he would. At this rate he was going to be Degare’ dog chow soon enough. He knew something was wrong earlier but he still thought he’d be able to alter if he needed, but now he knew differently. It was his just-reward, he thought despondently as he fought to stave off the beast. He began to recall fear. An emotion he had not felt in a very long time, and he did not welcome it now. Fear sucked but he used it to avoid being eaten alive.

  Simon paid Adriane little heed. He sniffed his shirt and made a face. Walking over to the drink table, he pulled his t-shirt over his head. A long silver tub was beside the table on the ground, filled with ice and water. Empty red cups bobbed in the top as well as some plastic bottles. He glanced over at Adriane noting he was still in once piece. Then he leaned down, shoving his arms into the frigid water, splashing his chest. Once he was satisfied the smell was gone he lifted his shirt back up to slide it on. He made a face and held it away from his body as Alistair walked up to the silver tub.