Gargoyle Rising

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  There was no conversation during the drive to the airport. Traveling alone, Rebecca was left with her own company and shame. During the entire flight to Italy, she read a textbook. She was fascinated with the topic and hoped to finish it before it and all her worldly possessions—with the exceptions of the crucifix—would be taken from her for the duration of her stay at the convent.

  With a heavy sigh, she put the textbook down. Memories of her first stay at the convent came back and dominated her thoughts enough to ruin her concentration.

  She’d been fourteen, and so proud of having been chosen to be one of God’s warriors. Father had driven her to the convent himself, explaining to her how important the time there would be for her—how important it was that she took her time in prayer and found the voice of God within to help her decide if she could serve Him and His cause wholeheartedly.

  It had been hell. The Sisterhood at that convent had all taken a vow of silence, and everything Rebecca had needed to learn about life there was done by show, don’t tell. It had been frustrating at the beginning, but at the end of the year in contemplation, she had finally understood the reasons behind their and her own silence.

  She had heard God.

  The memory of it filled her with such love and devotion, and for a moment she could barely believe that she had only a month earlier been filled with doubt about all that she and the others worked toward. Or rather, the means used.

  On her way back to that convent, Rebecca counted herself blessed that she already knew the routines. She just hoped that time hadn’t distanced her memory of the place too much, because even though she’d come to understand the necessity of silence, she’d also hated her year there. She’d hated her small cell with nothing but an uncomfortable thin mattress over a steel frame, no view, and damp walls.

  She’d hated that it was necessary for her body and mind to be so tired in order for God to reach through to her heart. She’d hated being starving while working sixteen hours a day in order to reach the necessary tiredness.

  It felt like a punishment going back there, but she knew Father only wanted what was best for her. It wasn’t a punishment—it was a gift to let her get close to God again. How could she feel anything but grateful the fact that Father recognized her struggle and stepped in as the loving role model who took care of his ward?

  That was just one more feeling she’d be looking for in the hours of silent prayer ahead—the feeling of gratefulness toward the man who had taken her into his arms and led her on a path so crucial to God’s Heaven on Earth.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The days since Professor Gershman’s death had crawled by and were dominated by gloomy moods as many students and teachers at the school were in mourning. Just as Lucien had hoped Nathan would catch a break after the news of Alex Rhoden, the news of Professor Nigel Gershman’s passing came. The whole school was let out early, and Nathan was left by himself in his room while Lucien cursed the sun for keeping him from his master.

  “I hope I can go to the funeral,” Nathan said while he collected the books on the list of those he had to return since the assignments were canceled. “And I really don’t want to part with this book, but I’m pretty sure it’s from his private collection.” Nathan leafed through the pages of the occult lexicon Gershman had handed him a short while back. At least Nathan had taken plenty of pictures of the pages that had to do with the chain. “Once I turn it in tomorrow, I need you to follow the book. If it isn’t his, then I have no scruples about us stealing it, because it really is a one of a kind.”

  Lucien smiled to himself, thinking back to when he had wanted to pop by the auction house to get some of his own belongings. Back then, Nathan had had very different ideas about what was allowed and what wasn’t.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Lucien rushed through it to see who it was. Finding the young protégé Jared, Lucien hurried back to Nathan, who looked worried. Lucien settled in him and focused on feeling calm and glad to see Jared.

  “So, you’re saying I should open?”

  Lucien stayed in his space, and Nathan finally opened the door.

  “Hey.” Jared held up a bag. “I bought a shit load of cake because a sugar shock to the system is gold when having gotten this bad news.”

  “Bad news?” Nathan almost looked like he wanted to collapse. Lucien sighed. Nathan deserved a break. What bad news was Jared bringing? Something about Alex? Or worse? Severin?

  “Yeah, your favorite professor died, right?”

  “Oh, fuck, I thought you came with more bad news.” Nathan stepped aside to let Jared enter.

  “No. I’m eyes-on and figured I’d stop by for coffee and lend a friendly ear while Lucien can’t be with you.”

  Nathan smiled and gave Jared’s shoulder a thankful shake. He then made a pot of coffee and collected plates for them.

  “I was never lucky enough to have a teacher that I was so fond of, but I figured it to be something like having a mentor.”

  “How did you find out?” Nathan asked and took a seat.

  “Severin called to know who had the watch today so that someone could come and be with you during the day.”

  “Lucien, did you go tell Severin that Professor Gershman passed away?”

  Lucien hadn’t, so he stayed away from Nathan’s space.

  “Hmm...”

  “Would have sent Jenny, of course, but she’s on another assignment. We got interesting things moving over here right now.” Jared looked almost giddy.

  “What? Spill, man!”

  Jared laughed. “Sorry, can’t go into too many details... mainly because I don’t know them. We’re moving some salvaged magic. Mr. Thomas was flown to Germany to help erase all tracks of a new asset.”

  “Now I’m curious,” Nathan admitted and opened the bag of cakes. “And that one will be put aside for Lucien. Okay?”

  Huge and creamy, and Lucien looked forward to devouring it.

  “Sure thing,” Jared said.

  “Come on, throw me a bone here, what asset?”

  “I truly don’t know,” Jared said, digging into his cake. And he really had brought enough to induce a sugar coma. Lucien wondered when Jared would discover that Nathan didn’t eat cake. But he’d noticed cake enough to know exactly which one Lucien would have wanted.

  Nathan’s consideration warmed Lucien, and he lounged in the shadows and enjoyed the friends they had in the Order—people who would come and make sure Nathan was okay while Lucien was useless to him.

  The sun finally ducked behind the horizon, and Lucien stepped from shadow behind Nathan.

  Jared jumped, but then he smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Jared.” Lucien leaned in to kiss Nathan’s neck. “Hi, mon coeur.”

  “Hello, hot stuff. I saved you a big greasy cake.”

  “And I’ve looked forward to it.” Lucien sat and pulled the plate closer. “I listened in, you know I do, and I noticed that your talk about Christmas holidays was skipped rather fast. No plans of going to your parents place this year?”

  “No,” Nathan said, looking like the decision pained him. “I’m not taking chances, with Alex being hunted. What if they noticed us?”

  “Then we would have had some idea about that by now,” Jared said.

  “We don’t even know who it is, do we?” Nathan asked.

  Lucien reached to take his hand now that he was capable of showing some support.

  “The Order has about a handful of competent adversaries,” Jared said, sitting forward. “We detect different kinds of magic with some of them. The ones who have apparently been skulking around here didn’t leave any.”

  “Meaning you then have an idea about who they are?” Lucien asked between bites of cake.

  “Being a protégé, I don’t always get the insight, but with Alex as the target, my money’s on the Agency. They work internationally and have a huge network in Europe—especially within Interpol.”


  “Jenny mentioned them,” Nathan said, absentmindedly stroking Lucien’s fingers.

  “They’re the ones we suspected to have caught up with him in Belgium, but I heard a rumor that Alex said something about the Templars. But that doesn’t make sense, because there’s always magic when we cross their path.”

  “What kind?”

  “Warding magic, mostly.”

  “Hmm,” Nathan mumbled and went to the stack of books he was to return the next day. He returned with the occult lexicon and leafed through it. With the amount of time he spent with that book in hand, Lucien figured he’d be stealing it for him even if it did belong to the deceased professor.

  “How do you detect the magic?” Nathan asked, not looking up from his search.

  “I have no idea. Mr. Talbot is usually the one handling that.”

  Nathan nodded. “Haven’t had the pleasure yet, but I know he’s the one I have to meet once I finish mapping the chains and bracelets.”

  “Nice guy. His protégé is one sharp woman. I don’t think her brain has ever let a detail slip out again.” Jared looked impressed, while Nathan looked a bit jealous. His photographic memory wasn’t as up to speed as he wanted it to be, but he worked hard on it. Lucien was even considering changing the methods to train his master in that skill set.

  “What’s his protégé’s name?” Nathan asked.

  “Vibeke, the i is pronounced like in limit.” Jared’s phone pinged, and he tapped away at the screen. “I gotta go. Mr. Thomas needs me to follow a car around.” Jared got up and extended his hand to Nathan. “Stay cool.”

  “You too.”

  Jared slapped Lucien’s shoulder and left. “Walk me out?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I’ll make dinner... if you can eat after that huge cake.”

  “I can eat.” Lucien pulled a jacket on and left with Jared.

  “Have you seen or heard anything?” Jared asked as they descended the stairs outside.

  “No. Not a damn thing. Why didn’t you ask Nathan about that, too?”

  “Jenny asked me not to. To keep it with you.”

  Lucien nodded, thinking they might be right. Nathan had come a long way, but he could worry needlessly, like he had around the time the news about Alex came out. Not that Nathan would admit to it, but he’d bury himself in books and his studies more as a result.

  “We haven’t found magic, so it’s harder for us. Even with operatives on the grounds, we haven’t seen anything. Not even when someone took pictures of Alex Rhoden on campus.”

  “Is Nathan in danger?” Lucien asked, not sure he continued to believe it wasn’t the case if they’d been so blind to that adversary.

  “Nothing points to it. And Jenny is busting balls on anyone who even hints at dawdling.”

  Lucien had no problem imagining that. He heard someone talking behind them and glanced over his shoulder, finding the party student and a young woman walking several meters behind them. They seemed to be lost in their own little world, but Jared picked up on them too, and changed the conversation to enquire about the cake.

  “It was a lovely thought,” Lucien said. “But didn’t you know Nathan hates sweet things?”

  “I didn’t know that. So what should I bring by next time?”

  “Black olives, cheese, or salty licorice.”

  “Ugh, my taste buds are cringing just from the sound of that.” Jared shivered visibly.

  Lucien chuckled.

  They arrived at Jared’s discreet car. It looked like something most people could afford, but Lucien knew that whatever was under the hood would leave most fast cars smelling burned rubber and with a nice distant view of his tail lights.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  “Drive safely.”

  Jared snorted and eyed Lucien. Yeah okay, probably not the right guy to say that to. Just as Jared was about to open the car door, Tavi stopped by them. He smiled a bit sadly and pocketed his hands. The cold air revealed a deep sigh.

  “Hi. How’s Nathan doing?”

  “Uhm, fine,” Lucien answered.

  “I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business since he and I don’t really talk and stuff. I just know how fond he was of Professor Gershman.” Tavi kicked at a stone and looked down.

  Lucien was touched by the genuine concern. “He’s gonna be fine, Tavi.”

  “Good.” Tavi smiled a bit awkwardly and looked to Jared. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Tavi.” He held out his hand to Jared, who shook it and introduced himself, too. “I’ll get going. Say hi to Nathan for me.” Tavi waved and trotted off just as the snow began to fall again.

  “What was that about?” Jared asked, looking after Tavi.

  “He’s the party student on campus. I think Nathan impressed him during a drinking game involving a lot of tequila.” Lucien felt a goofy grin spread on his face at the memory of a thoroughly wasted but very amorous Nathan.

  Jared grinned, too, but probably more from what he imagined that to have been like. He finally patted the roof of his car and opened the door. “See you later, my friend.”

  “Yeah, see you around.” Lucien stepped back to not have his feet run over and waved him off. He then made sure no one was watching and returned to Nathan.

  Nathan was still sulking, and Lucien wondered what to do to cheer him up. On the desk stood a box with cheerful wrapping and a big bow. Lucien smiled as an idea came to him. Online surfing for the perfect present for Jenny should cheer Nathan up.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The Order came through pretty quickly with gathering all of Meino’s belongings. A week after Meino and Burkhart had arrived, Theresa informed Meino that David and Kevin would be returning later that day.

  It had been a weird week. First of all, Meino had gotten used to seeing ghosts. He had certainly thought that it would take a lot longer than a week, but the woman running across the library in the air didn’t bother him anymore. The hairs on the back of his neck still bristled, but it was no longer a full rise from neck to ass.

  The beautiful surroundings of the castle were blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and Meino had seen it from up high every morning before sunup. He’d almost gotten used to flying over the course of the week, and Burkhart took care not to take him too high. Meino actually felt hopeful about getting over his fear of flying—at least he saw a chance, given how attentive Burkhart was. That the big Gargoyle was also in his head all the time helped Meino feel secure and confident that Burkhart wouldn’t overlook a sudden panic attack up there.

  In truth, it wasn’t bad enough for full blown panic attacks. Meino had found that he envisioned bad things happening, like plummeting to his death, but they never came to pass. That had to be what Jenny had spoken about—the part about pushing the line and gaining ground over your fear by building confidence in the fact that what you dreaded would happen didn’t.

  One thing Meino had not learned to live with was to have people waiting on him. He couldn’t feel at ease or at home in the huge house and find his dirty laundry missing only to reappear in a neat stack, smelling of detergent. Food was placed in front of him, the plate was taken away when he was done, and he hadn’t made himself one single cup of coffee or tea since he’d arrived. And he had nothing else to do other than tell his life story and answer Ms. Theresa’s questions. He’d fixed cars most of his life, so a week was far more time than needed to go over even the boring details.

  In truth, he felt useless. Maybe that was why he had come to spend so much time on the roof of the old castle. Maybe it wasn’t just so Burkhart could be physically close to his brothers. The Gargoyle swore it didn’t matter, because he was connected to them on a soul level that Meino didn’t really understand. He guessed it was like with him and Burkhart—that he was forever present in his mind. But he also knew it was more than that. Burkhart could feel Meino’s emotions in a way Meino hadn’t fully understood.

  For t
he past three days, Meino and Burkhart had come to the roof as soon as the stone released him. They’d fly until Meino couldn’t see anymore because of the dark, and then they’d stand on the roof and enjoy the world and the clean air until Meino got too cold. Ms. Theresa had procured suitable clothes for Meino to be outside so much. To look at the nearly naked being at his side was almost hilarious. But also not so hilarious, because Meino had noticed that he had a tendency to check Burkhart out discreetly.

  Yeah, that was another thing he hadn’t gotten used to, either. Since Burkhart had come into his life, Meino had been adamant about not jacking off because he knew the big being was watching. He’d thought about asking someone how they dealt with knowing that a whole roof full of Gargoyles were watching, but so far, he hadn’t found anyone he felt comfortable enough to bring the subject up with. It was probably mainly because he was an introvert mechanic who spoke more to his car than he did people. Except for Burkhart. He was comfortable around Burkhart except for that one area, and Meino suspected he was uncomfortable about it because Burkhart had replaced the man Meino usually thought about when finding pleasure by his own hand.

  Meino sighed deeply, enjoying the crisp air filling his lungs and cooling his throat.

  And there stood the god-like creature, calm and steady as he watched in every direction at the same time.

  “They are on the grounds,” Burkhart announced, his deep and rich voice sending a shiver through Meino. Burkhart turned his head and smiled.

  “Only David and Kevin?”

  “Are you hoping for more visitors?”

  “There was another guy they said wanted to see my books.”

  “Mr. Talbot, yes. He is not with the party coming in now. But he will be here soon.”

  “How do you know?”

  A gust of wind came up from behind and chilled Meino’s back. Burkhart extended his wing and used it to draw Meino closer and shield him from the wind. Again, the thoughtfulness warmed Meino. And again, the thought of him being in love with a supernatural being instead of a human cut into his heart. He wondered whether it was because of all the stories his dad had told him in the crypt, because he’d lived so much in fantasy worlds ever since. Was love between them even possible?