by Ryals, R. K.
"She's hurting him," Rachel breathes as she walks to my side.
Both of us stare at Emma. She isn't moving, frozen. Rachel pokes her. No response.
"Shit," I curse.
I pick Emma up, cradling her in my arms. She comes to life, fighting me, her body suddenly active as she twists in an attempt to see out the door.
"Jesus, Con! She can control Demons," Rachel cries out.
I press Emma to me.
"Some Demons," I correct as I run for the stairs.
At the landing, I shout. Mom is already there. Rachel is behind me. Roach appears at the top of the stairs, Will is moving my way from the front of the house. Emma is thrashing violently. The moon has her.
"We've got to get her to the Acropolis! NOW!" I yell.
"Now? Like this?" Rachel scoffs.
Mom takes one look at Emma and nods. I don't have the experience Mom and Roach have, but I know Emma isn't safe here. I have heard of this, but I have never seen it. Emma is channeling her mother.
"Go!" Mom orders.
I take the stairs two at a time. Will and Rachel pound the stairs behind me. Roach has reverted to his gargoyle form. He hisses as we join him. The trip will take all of us. We'll be attacked. There's no doubt. Only my mother will remain.
"Conor!" Mom calls. I look down the stairs, a thrashing Emma beating me incessantly in the chest. Mom's eyes meet mine. "Be careful. Kill her if you have to." Her words cut through me. She's afraid.
I nod, giving her my back as the four of us begin to run. There is a lever built into a room at the end of the hall. It opens a large skylight in the ceiling. We run for it, Will punching it before we all launch ourselves into the sky. There are three Demons waiting for us.
I see Roach extend his talons, sinking them into a dragon-like Demon above my head. It howls. They are evenly matched. Rachel takes a smaller bull-like Demon with black, curling horns and two hairy arms. It has hooves for feet. Will stays behind me. The third Demon has retreated. It is outnumbered, and it knows it. I wrap myself around Emma. She feels hot against my chest.
"Dammit, Em! Snap out of it!"
She doesn't respond, and I grab her by the chin, forcing her face to mine. I don't know her, but I can't kill her. I know this. I'd stood behind her while she talked to her mother, had seen the bloody tears on her cheeks in the hospital, had watched her shoot a ball of flame, had seen her fight the power of the moon. She can fight this.
Her eyes meet mine. They are blood red. She is a Demon. She is the daughter of Enepsigos. She is Emma.
She snarls, scratching me, and I watch as her nails leave a red welt across my chest. I am going to have a hard time fighting anything with her fighting me as well. I need to get to the ocean. Quickly. Water is a sanctuary for gargoyles.
Kill her if you have to
My arms tighten around Emma. She is howling. I know what she is. I hate what she is. I have been trained to kill Demons. I still hate them, hate them for what they take from mankind, what they have taken from me. They killed my father, took Dayton.
I look down at Emma. She is going wild. But beneath the thrashing, the screaming, I see it. Bloody tears. She is a Demon, but she is also human. She has not asked for this.
I head for the Gulf. We need water.
"Sssssssssssssss . . . if they send the hounds, we are done for," Roach hisses, his serpentine body twisting through the air, his clawed feet covered in black blood.
He smiles wickedly and sucks on one of his talons. There is more than one reason Roosevelt is called Roach. I look at him, my eyes full of disgust. Roach isn't an awful guy, but he is intolerant.
"Fly for the ocean," I tell them. Will and Rachel are flanking me now. Roach moves ahead, his neck arched backwards.
"You want to drown her?" Roach asks, his snake-like voice rumbling with laughter. One day, I will beat the shit out of him.
"We use it. We dive. We come up for air. We dive."
Will looks at Emma. Her hair is sticking to her forehead. She is sweating from the fight, and there is no sign she will tire soon.
"She could drown," Will says softly.
There is no malice in his tone, nothing to suggest he wants her dead although I realize it would be a relief to them. She is a danger to us. She could get us killed, and no one wants to die for a Demon.
"Yes, she could," I say quietly.
If she does, it won't be intentional. I have no idea how she will react to salt water. I have no idea how long she can hold her breathe. Although Demons can't be drowned, they have an aversion to water. It doesn't hurt them, but Demon-hybrids haven't been so lucky. For some, water is deadly.
We fly faster, the Gulf welcoming us on the horizon just as a black cloud rolls in from the same direction. It is a mass of Demons, possibly Hellhounds.
"Dive!" I yell.
Emma is moaning, her head rolled back as she stares up at the sky. The moon suddenly breaks through the cloud cover and Emma goes slack, her eyes locked on the huge white orb. In that moment, she isn't awkward, she isn't unremarkable, she is breathtaking.
"Emma," I whisper.
She doesn't look at me. I close my eyes briefly as the wind buffets us. The water is coming up fast.
"Hold your breath, Sweetheart."
I can only hope she hears me. Roach sinks into the waves. Rachel skips on the surface of the water before diving into the Gulf's comforting arms.
Will looks at me, his eyes sad. I wonder if he and I are the only ones who care what happens to Emma. I think about her mother, the skinny auburn-haired woman who'd been ringing her hands in the hall outside Emma's cubicle in Atlanta.
Will sinks into the waves. Emma's voice rings through my head, her phone conversation with her adopted mother still fresh in my mind. I love you, Mom. No matter what, I love you. Emma doesn't have a lot of people in her life, but she has that much.
"Hold your breath, Sweetheart."
We plunge into the icy waters just as the sky above fills with Demons.
Chapter 12
Emma
I am cold.
Demons . . . power . . . such power.
I can't breathe.
Fire . . . blazing flames . . . I am burning.
I am scared.
Burning . . . I am burning . . . it feels amazing.
I am dying.
I am in water when I open my eyes, and I panic, thrashing as I draw in a lungful of salt water. It burns, and I struggle. There is no oxygen left. And still I struggle. I am weakening. I struggle. I am slipping away. I struggle.
There are arms around me, vice-like and cold. We are moving. I am dying. My world is going dark, the only sound, a gurgling of water.
And then I am gasping. The arms around my stomach are so tight, they are squeezing the water from my body. I am still, choking, but there is air above me, water surrounding me. Moonlight plays on choppy waves. And behind me, like a god of water, is Conor.
"Breathe, Emma," he says. He is worried, desperate. He is watching the skies.
I still can't catch my breath. I am cold, so very cold, and I feel like I will never be warm again. Something breaks the surface of the waves near us, and I recoil as I gasp. It is a sea monster.
"Get back under the waves, Reinhardt," It hisses. It is Roach.
Conor ignores him, his arms finally loosening some around my waist.
"Emma, you've got to listen to me . . ."
"She has called an army of Demons, and you want to pamper her?" Roach yells.
His long, serpentine head arches backward, his beady eyes on the sky. It's the first time I notice the grotesque monsters in the air. They are moving fast toward us. I want to scream, but my throat is on fire.
"You and I, Roach! When we get to the Acropolis, you and I! In the training center! Understand! Now, get your scaly hide back under the water and let me deal with this!"
Conor is angry. I feel the emotion course through my blood. It is fire. It is good. Roach roars, his eyes flashing.
"Dying for a Demon isn't dying honorably."
With this, Roach is gone. I can hear keening in the sky. I don't look up. Conor is forcing my face in his direction.
"Listen to me! We are going to have to go back underwater, Emma. Do you understand me?"
I nod, but I only feel half-present. I do not know how I got here. I only remember the smooth taste of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I remember being afraid. Now, I feel fuzzy. I feel strong. I feel weak.
Two heads surface near us, Will and Rachel. They share a look with Conor and are gone again. Conor looks up at the sky.
"Fight it, Emma. Remember your mother, and for God's sake, hold your breath," he whispers urgently into my ear.
My mother. In my mind, I glimpse a woman with dark hair and scarlet eyes. No, not my mother. My mother has auburn hair. She looks weak, but she is strong.
I feel Conor turn to the waves. There are beating wings close now. I can feel the breeze on my face. Conor runs his hands over the waves, and water surges violently upward, forming a twister that circles us then moves away. I hear screaming. It isn't human.
"Hold your breath," Conor orders.
This time, I am ready. I fill my lungs with air, and then I am underwater. It is dark beneath the waves. The salt water stings so badly when I try to open my eyes that I force them closed again. I want to exhale, and I fight the urge. My lungs burn, but we are moving quickly, so fast the water almost hurts. It is tearing at my skin. I can't see, but I feel.
The water temperature changes constantly. It is cold, colder, warmer in spots, but never truly warm. I am freezing. I don't know how Conor sees, but I trust him. For once, I trust him because I have too.
There is suddenly air again.
"Breathe!" Conor shouts.
I exhale, I inhale. We are underwater again. I am digging my nails into Conor's skin. We move so fast, I am afraid he will let go. I am cold. So cold. I am dying from the cold. I am tired. I lose time. Someone slaps me gently.
"Breathe!"
Air again. Conor. I sputter, then inhale. Water again. The water hurts. My lungs can't handle this. I am dying. I exhale underwater because I can't hold my breath anymore. I open my eyes without thinking. Through the burn, the water is suddenly red. We are near the surface, but there is fire above.
I get a glimpse of Conor's face. He looks defeated. He cannot surface. His eyes meet mine. His mouth descends. He is trying to breath for me.
There is no warmth when our lips meet. My eyes are closed again. He exhales. I am not sure a person can breathe for another, but my lungs are fooled. Briefly fooled.
I am struggling again. Why doesn't he just let me go? We break the surface again. There is air. I gasp.
"We are almost there, Em. Hold on. One more time. Breathe one more time."
I inhale. Water again. I will forever hate water now. I am too tired now to struggle. My eyes stay closed. I feel myself drifting. The cold, the lack of air . . . it is finally killing me. I welcome the darkness. There is no pain there.
Chapter 13
Conor
In France, the sun is up. It is 6 a.m. and cold.
"Is she alive?" Will asks as we drag ourselves onto the shore.
Emma hangs like a rag doll from my arms. She has passed out during the last leg of our journey through the Gulf and through the Atlantic. We have entered France through the Bay of Biscay.
"She's alive," I answer.
I can feel her heart beating against my chest. Her skin is warm even after being submerged in the cold winter waters. Rachel is searching the sky.
"You won't find any," I say. "They lost our trail when she passed out."
Rachel turns to look at me. Her pajamas are soaked, water dripping everywhere on the shore. Her blonde hair hangs limply down her back.
"How do you know?" she asks.
Roach slithers next to Rachel.
"Because the idiot swam the last couple of miles above water."
I feel the anger rise, but I ignore it. I will not be goaded. Not now.
"We need to go before we do have something to worry about."
No one argues. In one combined movement, we use powers as ancient as our ancestors to propel the water from our bodies before launching into the sky. Emma is dry now in my arms. Her cheeks are flushed, feverish. Her powers are growing. She is like no mark I have ever protected, whether Demon or human.
"She's not going to fit in there," Will says suddenly from my left. I don't look at him.
"They will eat her alive," Rachel adds. She is flying on my right. Roach is ignoring us, his serpentine body leading the way.
"I don't know. Something tells me she's going to surprise us all," I say, my eyes still focused on the sky ahead.
The landscape is changing. We have left the coast behind. There is a blur of green rolling hills below. There are mountains in the distance, and there are homes nestled among thick tree-lined hills. But we are focused on only one place, and I am relieved when I see the turret of the Acropolis. It is well hidden in the countryside.
Registered as a residence for the Moreau family, The Acropolis is a renovated medieval chateau of grey-white stone with a mostly straight facade broken up by arrow slit windows and a solitary tower and turret. Cypresses surround the property, mostly obscuring it from view. There is a forest to the back of the chateau. To the side is a small lake, and the main building is hemmed in by landscaped gardens surrounded by low stone fences. There are two outbuildings and a stable that have been renovated to form residence halls.
I gesture at one of the outbuildings, an old guardian's cottage, and we all land carefully on the roof. Each building, even the main, is rigged for quick entries from above. I crouch as Roach, Rachel, and Will enter ahead of me through a small terrace not originally part of the building. I hear greetings from inside, and I know our arrival is expected. My mother would have contacted the appropriate people.
"Do you need help, Conor?" a young female voice asks, and I look up to find Marion Durand leaning out of the terrace's entrance. She is a pretty girl, eighteen, with rosy cheeks, brown hair, and a round figure. Her father is the school's headmaster.
I smile at her because I know her offer is genuine. There isn't a mean bone in Marion's body.
"She's going to be very afraid when she wakes up," I say quietly as I lean into the entrance.
The room is a small one, a study used only by administrators, and it is made even smaller by our presence. Marion nods as she motions to her left. An African-American girl scrambles forward and together she and Marion take Emma from me. The dark-skinned girl is Deidra Alexander. She smiles as she passes. Emma is in good hands.
Marion hands Roach a pair of cotton drawstring pants as they approach the door. He has reverted to his human form and is completely naked but neither girl flinches. Modesty is not a part of gargoyle life especially among the shifter set.
Will is leaning wearily against the cottage's stone wall, and Rachel is standing next to a man of average build with brown hair in a casual tweed suit jacket over a white shirt and dark blue jeans.
"Mr. Durand," I say, extending my hand. I can hear the weariness in my own voice.
"Mr. Reinhardt," Gary Durand replies, his hand clasping mine tightly. My handshake is weak. My trip from France and back again, the battle with Demons, and the ocean journey has drained me.
"I am impressed," Durand says. His eyes move over us slowly. "Rachel, here, tells me you have traveled primarily through water to get here?"
I nod. Gary shakes his head, his face a mask of disbelief. Gargoyles have always had an affinity with water, but no one has ever used it as an escape route. We are not immune to the sea's dangers. No matter how fast we can travel, luck played a large part in our success. There had been no choice. Most Demons will avoid water, and we would not have won a battle by air.
"It was a smart move, Reinhardt, considering. There are empty rooms on the next floor. Go. All of you. Rest."
No one argues.
&nb
sp; "And Conor?" Durand says just as I'm about to duck out of the room. I turn to look at him. "Gibson will hear of this. You did well. Your job is finished."
The mark is alive, she has been delivered to the Acropolis, Rachel is uninjured, and I am a Guardian again. Gibson will be happy. I am too tired to care.
"I'm not finished," I say suddenly. Durand, who has started to turn away, looks at me in surprise. I have surprised myself.
"Not finished?" Durand asks. I nod, my jaw tight.
"I'd like to petition to become Emma's Guardian."
With that, I duck out of the room and walk away.
Chapter 14
Emma
"Hold on."
In my head, I hear Conor's voice. It's supposed to get me through, supposed to help me survive this wild trip through the sea. I am dreaming. I am awake. I am lost.
"Emma?" a voice asks.
It isn't Conor. It is female. I recoil. I am in pain.
"Emma, it's okay. My name is Marion Durand. You are safe."
She has a sweet voice, this Marion, and I realize I am no longer cold. I am lying on something soft, and I am warm. A hand works its way into mine, and I cry out. It is immediately withdrawn.
"You are safe," Marion's voice repeats. "You are at the Acropolis. No one here will harm you."
The Acropolis. I know this name. I am at the school for hybrid Demons, but I don't know how I got here, and I am scared. My memory is fuzzy. There is a moonlit kitchen, a grotesque face. I am angry. I want to fight. I want to leave. I want to fly. Instead, I am drowning. I am underwater.
And then there is a god, a sea god. Conor. He is surrounded by water and beautiful. I wonder briefly if he is really as beautiful as my mind makes him. I whimper.
"Emma . . . Emma?" Marion calls. She attempts touching me again, and I manage not to fight her. "Open your eyes, Emma. You are safe."
She keeps repeating the word "safe". It has no affect on me, but I open my eyes anyway because I am too afraid to keep them closed. There is a girl standing over me.