Sabrina and the Gargoyle

by Marie Dry

  “For Carl.”

  He nodded. “When he arrives, don’t leave my side, no matter what. Christopher is on his way.”

  She grabbed his shirt. “Don’t go to war with the werewolves. Give him his son and let’s get the drogge sorted first.”

  “Stepson or no, it will not be that easy for Carl.”

  Her shoulders sagged. As much as she wanted that monster to suffer, she couldn’t stomach the thought of what Herman would do to Carl. Couldn’t enjoy the torture of another person. Even someone as dreadful as Carl. Her forehead rested against his chest. “I cannot bear to be the cause of someone else being hurt or dying,” she whispered.

  Something ugly moved in his eyes. “If Herman doesn’t punish him, I’ll finish him off. Alliance be damned.”

  A small mean part of her wanted to insist Carl be tied to a road where a lot of people could step on him. She resisted the urge to demand something that Mark wouldn’t hesitate to do. “I just felt so helpless, I didn’t realize before, but I have no idea how to defend myself against vampires and the people who hunt them and gargoyles and who knows what else?”

  “If you can’t get away from a shifter and you’re close enough, knee him in the nuts, they never expect resistance from a woman,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Good advice, but I have no plans to be that close to any shifter that means me harm.”

  “If you find yourself running from them, disguise your scent any way you can.”

  “Like rolling in the dirt?”

  “Whatever works.”

  “And gargoyles.”

  “Run like hell.” He very carefully felt her ribs. “How do you feel?”

  “I feel sort of numb.” She slapped the mattress in frustration. “I just want to be healed and--” Her hand flew to her face. “How awful do I look?”

  He stroked her hair off her forehead. “Sabrina, you look alive to me. I have healed most of the bruises. All that matters now is that you’re alive.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “I’m going to wait for Herman and resist the urge to torture the little shit until he begs for death.” His features hardened and his eyes glowed until a monster looked at her. A monster, her monster, that would protect her.

  “Sleep now.”

  She slept for a while and when she opened her eyes, Christopher was sitting in a chair next to the bed.

  “Why the brooding expression?” she asked.

  He glanced up at her and his lips moved in an almost smile. “Welcome back. I thought you might just sleep the whole week.”

  “I feel as if I can sleep for a week.” Her ribs didn’t hurt that much anymore. She just felt sort of fragile and she suspected it might be the shock of being kidnapped, again, and hurt. Come to think of it, the gargoyles put her in the cold cellar but they weren’t as vicious as the vampire hunters were.

  “Go ahead, you will feel better after you’ve rested. When we get that witch, I’ll make her pay for every minute you spent in that hellhole.” Judging by the grim sound of his voice, that witch had better disappear into a deep dark donga.

  When he talked like that with such a grim expression on his face, she wondered how she ever mistook him for a carefree student. “Maybe she didn’t know how they’d use her spells.”

  “They’re not allowed to do harm. Their severe laws mean they err on the side of caution. This has to be a rogue who broke from the do-no- harm covens.”

  “Why would she help them?”

  “Money,” he said with grim contempt.

  “I was tortured because some witch wanted money?” If it didn’t hurt so much, it would’ve been laughable.

  “They found her at a fete where she pretended to be a fortune teller. In exchange for five thousand rand, she put a protection spell on their house and did a spell to conjure up the image of a vampire.

  “It felt like forever in there, but I am glad Mark found me so fast. That little creep planned on, he wanted to--”

  “I know, Sabrina, and, believe me, he’s paying for that right now. They were amateurs. If they were professionals, Mark couldn’t have found you that fast, and they wouldn’t have tortured you for pleasure. Believe me, the real vampire hunters are something much worse.”

  “There are real vampire hunters?” she asked, horrified. What other creatures was out there preying on unsuspecting humans?

  Every time she turned around, there were more creatures she never knew about. And now vampire hunters, worse than the ones who kidnapped her.

  She shivered and pulled the blanket a little closer to her. “If these were amateurs, I really don’t want to experience the real thing.”

  “Believe me, you don’t. I’m not minimizing what you went through, but real vampire hunters would’ve killed you and used your dead body to lure Mark out into the open. Or some other fiendish way. I’ve seen them in action over the centuries, and we never underestimate them.”

  “Would real vampire hunters also kill me for marrying Mark?” She doubt she’d get the chance to explain Mark’s little mind tricks to them before they hurt or killed her.

  “Yes. They wouldn’t hesitate a second. If they feel you’re helping a vampire, they’d kill you without a qualm.”

  “All right. If ever the real thing comes to Cape Town, please let me know so that I can emigrate to another country.” She was only half joking.

  He smiled slightly and nodded. “If they do, I’ll join you. We’ll take Mark’s private jet and get the hell away from here.

  This time, she laughed but immediately groaned when her bruised lips protested. “How are these real vampire hunters different from the bunch that got me. They seemed pretty effective.”

  “For one thing they would dispose of you, given the chance, but they would target Mark. They’d go for him without any fear and fight to the death. They’re fanatics, but they’re disciplined, well-trained fanatics.”

  Mark appeared in the doorway.

  “Is it done?” Christopher asked and Mark nodded.

  They were talking about what he did with Carl and tomorrow she’d worry about it. She didn’t have the will to take it on now.

  “Have you heard anything about Mikaela. Is she getting better?”

  “Thailog said they’re keeping her sedated for now, while they work on getting the drogge presence out of her mind.”

  Did Mikaela even know what was happening to her? Sabrina hoped she was in a deep peaceful sleep and only came awake when that evil had been wiped from her mind. “Please, I want to go downstairs and sit for a while. I’ve been lying in this bed or sleeping long enough.”

  Mark came forward. “All right. I’ll carry you down.”

  “Uh, why don’t you two go downstairs? I want to take a quick shower before I join you.”

  He frowned at her and checked her over before nodding.

  After her shower, she went downstairs and joined Mark and Christopher. Even before the knock on the door came, Mark and Christopher stiffened, their eyes predatory. Christopher went to the door, and Mark stepped in front of her. Again she saw the slight hitch when he moved.

  Herman walked in with several very big, very mean looking werewolves following him. If this deteriorated into a fight, they were sadly outnumbered.

  Still, when Mark turned gargoyle, she had a feeling he’d dispatch a lot of wolves before they could overpower him. And she had Ouma’s knopkerrie in a copper bucket in the corner.

  Herman sat down opposite them, the other shifters taking positions around the room. “You have my stepson.”

  “In the boot of my car.” Mark appeared relaxed, but his body was rock hard.

  Herman leaned forward. “You know how I deal with insults like that.”

  The shifters growled in their throats, but Sabrina had the strangest sense that it was just a token gesture.

  “He bought a spell from a witch, abducted my wife, threw her out of the car, and stepped on her, break
ing three of her ribs,” Mark said, his voice a threat, like a lion stalking prey on padded claws.

  Herman checked and clenched his fists. “He did what?”

  “Kidnapped my wife, stepped on her, hit her with his fists,” Mark said in clear biting tones. “Should I forget a slight like that?”

  “What do you want for restitution, Sabrina?” Herman asked her. He looked her right in the eye in a curious almost predatory way and what she saw there made her really, really glad she wasn’t in Carl’s shoes at that moment.

  “No, you deal with me. My wife has a forgiving heart.” Mark reached into his jacket and took out his phone. Pressed a long finger on the screen and then turned it toward Herman. “I do not.”

  “I can’t let you kill him.” Something in Herman’s voice said if it was up to him, he’d let him rot in the boot of Mark’s car.

  “He was with a bunch of wannabee vampire hunters,” Christopher said. “I take it as a personal insult that he dared touch the woman of a fellow vampire.” For the first time since her cousin died, he smiled, and it wasn’t pretty.

  Herman swore long and fluently. “His mother will want to see him one last time.”

  Against her, Mark relaxed. “I have no objection.”

  Carl needed to be made to never do this again, but Sabrina had the awful feeling that they all meant Carl to die. “What are you going to do with him? I don’t want his death on my conscience.”

  Herman opened his mouth to answer and the windows exploded. For a moment, she thought he’d broken them merely by opening his mouth. Mark threw his body over hers and Christopher jumped in front of them.

  Several figures in vaguely medieval clothes came sailing through the broken windows. Sabrina had the most insane impulse to tell them off for breaking into her house. What did these people have against knocking on the door? Big men with long, almost waist length hair surrounded them, each holding a crossbow. The front door shattered and a tall man with long black hair stalked into the room.

  Mark swore long and, no doubt, with inventiveness in his language.

  “You broke my windows and my front door. What do you people have against knocking?” she wailed.

  “Quiet, Sabrina,” Mark said.

  Chapter 13

  The tall man with broad shoulders and raven black hair smiled at them. Sabrina recoiled from that horrific smile. Dressed in black pants with a long tunic over that and leather boots, he looked like a medieval villain.

  “I apologize for the dramatic entrance. Somehow, I doubted you’d extend an invitation to tea and your excellent koeksisters.”

  Sabrina saw red. If Mark hadn’t placed his arm around her, she would’ve jumped the man and scratched his eyes out. How dare he? First, gargoyles destroyed her ouma’s house and now this vampire hunter--those crossbows gave away what he was, a vampire hunter--invaded her home.

  “You could’ve knocked, you reject from a medieval faire.” She motioned to the wolves, who looked ready to take on the vampire hunters. “See? The wolves knew to knock. Then we open the door and no one has to break my windows!”

  “Simon,” Mark said between clenched teeth.

  He gave a courtly bow. “At your service.”

  “Why aren’t you in Europe?” Christopher asked.

  He stayed next to Sabrina. She appreciated the protection, but if one more person violated her home, she’d have the strength to kick all their butts. Those windows were made from trees cut down more than a century ago. Ouma was probably turning in her grave.

  Simon sheathed his sword. “We face a common enemy.”

  “Again, then you knock on the door,” Sabrina said. “We let you in, and we discuss our common enemy. You do not break my antique windows.”

  “Sabrina,” Mark cautioned and drew her tight against him, never taking his eyes off Simon, like a predator that had scented prey.

  Simon gave a small bow. “I stand corrected.”

  Sabrina wasn’t fooled. Next to her, Mark was coiled, as if ready to strike. The vampire hunters might be mere humans, but all the non-humans were treating them like a serious threat.

  “I did not enter your house because I want to kill you,” Simon continued. “The weapons are simply to make you listen.”

  “Why should I believe you, vampire hunter?” Mark asked.

  “Because you know what’s coming?” Simon said, unperturbed.

  Mark tensed even more. “And how do you know what’s coming?”

  What Sabrina wanted to know was if he knew the drogge wanted to sacrifice her. That she is the reason they were stirring again. If he thought it would help his cause, she had no doubt this Simon would offer her up with no problem.

  “We’ve been monitoring their behavior since the first time they appeared. That was two hundred BC, I believe. I do not like the way they kill humans. As if we’re nothing better than sport to them.” Simon had a vaguely British accent, but she doubted he lived in England long. Like Mark, she suspected his accent had adapted to years of travel in foreign countries.

  “Try food,” Mark said.

  The atmosphere cooled. She didn’t think it possible, but Simon’s face hardened even more.

  “They’re feeding of the women disappearing?” he said through clenched teeth.

  He seemed to be focused on keeping humans safe. She was surprised at his reaction, had expected him to be fanatic about killing the drogge and returning to vampire hunting.

  “That’s what we suspect. They prefer vampires, but few of our kind make their homes here. So they make do with the next best thing,” Christopher said.

  Sabrina couldn’t believe they were calmly discussing the drogge using humans and vampires for food, while they were surrounded by men with arrows pointed at them.

  “We’ve had unusual activity from them in Europe and then suddenly they just left to come here.” Simon appeared to wait for Mark or Christopher to tell him why the drogge came here. When they simply stared at him, he continued. “We want to declare a temporary truce so that we can combine forces and wipe these things off the face of the earth.”

  “And during this truce you and your men do not hunt vampires?” Mark said.

  “I didn’t know you cared about your vampire brethren,” Simon mocked.

  Again Sabrina thought he was dangerously well informed.

  “I don’t. I need them to fight the drogge. So after we defeat the Drogge, what then?”

  “Business as usual.”

  Mark pressed her arm and she could’ve told him he didn’t need to worry. No way would she tell Simon the drogge were after her. “Lower your weapons, and I’ll consider working with you,” Mark said.

  She didn’t see Simon give any command, but the men lowered their bows to point at the floor. Simon looked at her with his pewter-colored eyes, and his face softened for a moment when he saw her bruised face. Fury swirled in that gaze, and she didn’t want to be Carl. Quite a few monsters would like to teach him a lesson.

  “I apologize for what those poor excuses for vampire hunters did to you, Sabrina. We kill vampires, we do not torture innocents. It is beneath us.”

  “Unless you will make me a promise and swear in blood, I will not go into any alliance with you,” Mark said with grim determination. “Even if it means the drogge will slaughter every vampire on earth.”

  “I know what you want, vampire, and I’ll gladly swear to protect your woman in the event of your death. I will go even further. From this moment, any creature, any wannabee vampire hunters who go after her will face my wrath.”

  With that he picked up an arrow and cut his hand.

  Sabrina winced and then frowned at the blood dripping on her floors. “You could’ve just promised. You really didn’t need to drip blood all over my yellow wood floor. Those were put in by my great grandfather, with money he earned working at building roads. Show some respect.”

  The werewolves sniggered. “Yeah, show some respect or we take you out behind the barn and teach you some,” one
of them said.

  Simon bowed to Sabrina and wrapped a cloth around his hand, but she noticed he didn’t wipe up the blood. These people had better start respecting her house. He ignored the werewolves as if they were beneath his notice.

  “You know, all things considered, I think I fear that man more than any of the supernatural creatures running around,” she whispered to Christopher.

  He winked at her. “Do you need to pack before we catch the jet?”

  Mark frowned at him and Christopher shrugged. “What? I agree with Sabrina. If vampire hunters appear, you get out of town.”

  “Glad to know you have a healthy fear of us, vampire,” Simon said.

  Christopher shrugged. “Nah, I can’t be bothered with you. I just don’t like the gloom and doom you spread with your sour presence.”

  “Glad to be of service,” Simon said.

  “Can we get back to the drogge now,” Mark bit out. “Simon, this is Herman, acting king of the werewolves.”

  Simon nodded at Herman who returned the gesture. Neither one seemed inclined to fight the other. She’d half expected them to draw weapons and start fighting. Good, no more blood on her floors.

  “We need the gargoyles on board,” Herman said.

  “They won’t come,” Mark said. “They think they’re immune to the drogge’s powers. If it doesn’t affect them directly, they won’t become involved.”

  “Charming bunch. Those nephews of yours need to be taught loyalty to family,” Herman said.

  “The point is they’re not onboard. There’s a rogue witch running around, but we need to get the witches on board as well.”

  “I know the chief sangoma in this area, I’ll phone her,” Sabrina said quietly. A sangoma was mostly a healer, but now that she knew what was possible, Sabrina had a feeling she’d find a few witches among them.

  “There’s a bunch of witches hanging around the Rhodes Memorial at night,” Christopher said. “I’ll go check them out.”

  “No, I need you to get hold of all the vampires in this area. Someone else can go to the witches,” Mark told him.

  “I’ll check it out,” Simon said.