by Ryals, R. K.
Chapter 11
Emma
"You realize you don't have to go," I say quietly.
Deidra, Ace, and I are the only ones left on the field. It's late afternoon now, a couple of hours away from twilight. I'm tired and sore, the training, lectures, and revelations revealed to us still swirling in my head, and I'm sitting on the ground, my hands behind me. Deidra looks up at me, her young face serious, her big brown eyes, wide.
"I can't not go," she says firmly, and I lean against Ace, letting my hair fall forward to hide my expression.
"You're not part of Enepsigo's orders, Dee," I point out, using the nickname I'd adopted over the past couple of weeks. Marcas had mentioned each of our parents, but he hadn't mentioned Deidra's. I'm not sure what that means, but I hope it means she doesn't have to go.
Deidra throws herself backward, her eyes on the sky as she puts her head in my lap. The day is nice. It's a mild day for March, a slight chill in the breeze, with blue skies and the kind of white, fluffy clouds I used to stare at with my mother as a child, picking out ridiculous shapes from marshmallow fat billows. I can see the clouds' reflection in Deidra's pupils as she turns her gaze to me.
"You know, my mom left me on the doorstep of complete strangers, " she says suddenly. "I was only a baby. Just a baby, and the people she left me with were horrified. They sent me to child protective services, and I was passed around the system. No one wanted me. I was a fussy baby, a temperamental toddler, and I spent most of my childhood playing pranks and causing trouble. I liked tricks. I even thought once I might be a magician."
I laugh at that. "Nothing wrong with wanting to be the next David Copperfield or Criss Angel," I say. Deidra grins.
"I didn't think so either, but then the Guardians came to take me to the Acropolis two years ago, and I was told I was the daughter of an imp. Imps, they said, were notorious for abandoning their half-human babies. They said it with such disgust, Emma, and I knew then being an imp wasn't something to be proud of. Even other Demons dislike them. And, again, no one wanted me. No one liked me simply because I was an imp."
I look up at the clouds because I don't want her to see the pity in my eyes. I lift a hand and place it casually in her hair. Something about Deidra tugs on my heartstrings. Maybe it's because I know she was bullied, not only from humans, but from her own kind. And maybe it's because deep down, Deidra has a kind heart, a really kind heart.
"You could still be a magician," I joke.
Deidra rolls her eyes, her fingers tugging at stubborn blades of grass.
"I'm going, Emma," she says quietly. "I want imps to be remembered for something more than practical jokes and abandonment."
Her words, her determination, are too big for her small, young body, and I feel tears threatening the back of my eyes.
"None of the Demons have tried to stop me. Not even the hybrid king. It kinda gives me hope. Maybe I'm more important than I thought," Deidra adds.
This time a tear escapes, and I brush the red-tinged liquid away before Deidra has a chance to see it. Ace lifts his head, rolling his body into me sadly, and I rub his scaly skin to quiet him. Hush, Boy, I think, my thoughts transferred silently to the beast. He grows still. I can't help but wonder if the Demons haven't stopped Deidra, not because her parentage is more important than we thought, but because they've forgotten her.
"You're important, Deidra," I say softly.
She grins. "Course I am. Dynamite comes in small packages."
She says the quote laughingly, and I wonder how many times she's heard it in her life. It's a quote meant to appease a child who has always wanted to be something more than she is.
I focus on the clouds. "If that's not a hippopotamus up there, then I'm not a Demon," I say suddenly and Deidra squints up at the sky.
"Ha!" she says. "That's a whale. You don't see its tail?"
I purse my lips."Nope, it's definitely a hippopotamus."
Deidra crosses her arms stubbornly. "Let it be known the daughter of Enepsigos is blind."
The laughter that erupts is too loud and too hysterical, and Deidra's laughter joins it. The situation is no where near amusing enough to cause us to clutch at our sides while fighting for breath, but there is something about joy that heals, even if it means we have to create it ourselves.
Ace roars, and I choke on my giggles while grabbing his neck to keep him from alarming anyone within the vicinity. I swallow hard to calm myself, sitting up so I can keep Ace's head near the ground. The beast's mind is empty, his loyalty undeniable, but his breath smells like death. Deidra pinches her nose closed and laughs harder. I finally give up and do the same, laughing as I fall to the ground next to her, next to the imp who had once jumped on my bed in the Acropolis, her eyes twinkling as she yelled, "Boo!"
To me, she is important.
Chapter 12
Conor
"I like her," a voice says from behind me, and I pull a black t-shirt over my head before I turn to face Dayton. It has been hours since Marcas met with the hybrids on the training field, and darkness is falling outside, a full moon just visible beyond the window of my room in the S.O.S. manor.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," I say wryly, my gaze on the redhead leaning against the door's scuffed, cherry wood frame.
The house is old, and my room in the manor is a small one, a cubicle that had once been a part of the servant's wing. The walls are white with a simple iron bed, and a plain blue comforter thrown across it. Alessandro had tried, without success, to get me to take something grander, but I'd refused. The Demons surrounding me are nothing compared to my inner Demons. There is too much blood on my hands, and I have too many nightmares. The servant's wing seems safe.
"Pretending doesn't make me disappear," Dayton teases, reaching into her blue jean pocket before pulling out a red dumdum lollipop and a piece of spearmint gum. The gum, she throws at me. I unwrap it dutifully and pop it into my mouth.
"I'm in Washington D.C. at the beginning of April, and there are trees full of so many blossoms it seems like they're covered in snow," Dayton says absently as she sucks on the dumdum.
I raise my brows. "Let me guess, you got a cherry one."
Dayton sighs and rolls her eyes at me. "God, Con! You have no imagination! You know the game isn't played that way!"
I laugh. "I'm not Monroe."
Dayton shakes her head sullenly. "Alas, this is true. You have nothing on her."
The dumdum flavor game belongs only to Monroe and Dayton, my two childhood friends. It's a game where they pretend to be in whatever part of the world the flavor originates from.
"I'm going to pretend that was a compliment," I say sourly.
Dayton laughs."Nope, no compliment until you quit avoiding the topic I introduced when I came to this door. I said I liked her, and you shot me down, so I'll be more blunt. What's up with you and the hybrid, Emma?"
I give Dayton my back. "I don't want to go there, Day."
She huffs indignantly before moving into the room and plopping onto my bed.
"Why? Because she's a hybrid or because you're a gargoyle?"
I take a seat next to her.
"Don't look for a forbidden romance where there isn't any. I'm not some character from one of your fantastically ridiculous romance novels or stories. Besides, you already did the forbidden romance thing. I'm too much of a gentleman to repeat your mistakes."
I wink, and she frowns at me, her arms crossed. We are down to the "intimidation by staring" routine now. The last time she tried that, I'd stolen her diary in the seventh grade and held it for ransom. She had to kiss a shy, pimply-faced friend of mine with a crush on her before I would return it.
Dayton breaks before I do. "Fine," she says, "If it's not a forbidden romance, then what kind is it?"
I look toward the only small window in the room. The curtains are pushed aside, and the moon beyond is large and bright. It reminds me of another full moon, and a late night journey through the ocean holding a hy
brid Demon I felt sure would drown.
"I don't do commitment," I say finally.
Dayton harrumphs. "That's bullshit, and you know it."
I stand, pulling a blue hooded sweatshirt off of the end of the bed before moving to the door.
"Just let it go, Day."
Dayton stands, and I can feel the daggers she's shooting at my back with her eyes.
"You want to know what I think," she says, and I brace a hand against the door's frame with a groan. It doesn't matter if I care what she thinks, I'm going to hear it anyway.
"I think you worry too much about good and evil. You refuse to believe there is something that lies between. There is only good and only evil for you, Conor. No matter how often you are faced with the hybrid's difficulties, you refuse to believe there is a place where lines are blurred. You are not the only gargoyle who walked away, and you've never been the type to walk through life deaf and blind, Con. Everything you see is not always what it seems. Let go," Dayton continues unfazed.
My jaw tightens and I look over my shoulder at her.
"I'm a Reinhardt."
The name is enough. My father was one of the greatest gargoyles to ever exist. He fought for good. He died for good. Will and I have not only tarnished the name, we've destroyed it. But I have a new mission now, and I'll see it through wrong or not. I brought the hybrids this far, and I will make sure they are safe before I walk away. I'm a man of my word.
"I'm a Reinhardt," I repeat wearily, my voice no more than a whisper.
Dayton shrugs, her green eyes on mine.
"You're also a man."
I push away from the door, pulling on the sweatshirt as I walk away from Dayton. I am a man, but I am also a gargoyle. I will not deny the feelings I have for Emma, and I don't regret rescuing her from the Acropolis. But I am a Reinhardt and when all of this is over, I will face the race that bore me, and I will sit in judgment.
***
A few minutes later, I am walking past Alessandro's small stairwell office when I see the light under the door. I pause, the sound of pacing within audible. The door is cracked, and I lean forward, my gaze falling on Alessandro's hunched form. His dark hair is mussed, his navy buttoned-up shirt untucked.
He stops near a simple, unpadded chair and sits heavily, his head in his hands. His office is cluttered, books open on the floor with gaping holes where they once sat in disorganized bookshelves. Sheets of paper hang off the edge of the desk while more paper lays crumpled around a dented aluminum waste basket. A small desk lamp, shaded in dark green glass, throws only dim light into the room, causing more shadows than light.
Shadows . . . shadows on the wall. I know all about shadows. Shadows don't sleep, they beckon, turning dancing figures into haunting shapes that twist the soul.
I look away from the dark silhouettes and push open the door. Alessandro looks up only long enough to glance over his shoulder. When he sees me, he sighs and returns his head to his hands.
"I've lost what's right over the years," Alessandro says, his voice forlorn. "The more time you spend in this world, this Godforsaken world of good, evil, and half-breeds, the lines start getting thinner until they barely exist anymore."
I shut the door behind me, the click loud in the silent room. Alessandro doesn't flinch. I stay near the door, my eyes on the S.O.S leader's back.
"I see a lot of me in you, you know," Alessandro continues. "So young, so idealistic. I wish I could tell you that age makes you wiser, but it doesn't. In this world, it just makes things more confusing."
I lean against the door.
"You were with Enepsigos once," I say. Alessandro doesn't move, doesn't confirm or deny my statement.
"In the debriefing held when I was assigned to Emma, I was told her father was killed. They don't know about you, do they?"
Alessandro finally looks up, his eyes haunted.
"No. It wouldn't have been safe. A man was killed. He was working for me, and he was assigned to protect Emma until I could find a suitable placement for her. When the gargoyles found her, they assumed the man was her father, and I let them believe it."
I stare at him, realization dawning.
"You're the reason she wasn't murdered as a baby."
Alessandro laughs, the sound harsh."It took every bit of diplomacy I had to convince Gibson to spare her. It helped that some of the gargoyles, like Delilah, seemed taken with the infant."
I push away from the door.
"How did you meet Enepsigos?" I ask.
It is a personal question, one I have no right to know. Alessandro exhales.
"I wasn't the leader of the S.O.S then. I was simply a warrior sent on a mission to retrieve a piece of Solomon's throne, an old artifact we are fighting to restore. I was in a fight with a group of Demons and injured. Enepsigos was still fighting to separate her kingdom from Lucifer's at the time, and she found me. I think she wanted to leave me, but I didn't know then she was a Demon, and I begged her to stay, to help me. She looked like an Angel. Her compassion felt like an Angel. She healed me. It's how our association began. Even after I discovered she was a Demon, I saw her. She was a Demon fighting to separate herself from Hell. It was enough to make the former S.O.S. leader want to help her. The more warriors we have on our side, the better, and Enepsigos was powerful. Incredibly powerful."
Alessandro grew quiet, and I let his words sink in. A picture builds in my mind, a young Alessandro and the beautiful Enepsigos.
"You fell in love with her," I say, my voice low.
Alessandro laughs, the sound bittersweet.
"If I'm being honest, I'm still in love with her."
I want to kneel next to him, place a hand on his shoulder . . . something, but I don't.
"Have you tried to talk to Emma," I say instead.
Alessandro shakes his head.
"I've watched her, but I've kept my distance. She has a lot of her mother in her, but she's a good person. She's strong. To be part human and to harbor the type of emotional powers her mother has, she'd have to be strong or she would have ended up in an institution, alone and insane."
I eye Alessandro warily. "She was in pretty bad shape when the gargoyles sent me to rescue her. She was dealing with emotions she thought were hers. Why not tell her before this? Why let Enepsigos do what she's doing now? She's sending the hybrids into a death trap!"
My voice has risen and Alessandro winces, his rugged face looking older than I've ever seen it.
"You accuse me in your head. I know you do. But the hybrids need this fight, Conor. They need this fight for freedom. Demons don't work the same way we do. The hybrids must prove their strength. Until they do, they will always be in danger. Even my protection would be useless. If they survive, there will be time to get to know her then. Then, she will be safe."
I shake my head. "And you would wait to see if she dies before you get to know her? You'd really hold yourself that aloof?"
Alessandro's eyes meet mine. "And in that you see my dilemma, Boy. No choice is the right one. Reveal myself now, and it gives Emma a weakness in the field, something the other Demons could use against her. Wait, and I miss my chance to tell her I've always cared about her."
Alessandro stoops once more, but I have no words to comfort him. The shadows in the room crowd in around us, lingering.
Water, I love. In water, I float and swim. I revel in its cool feel the same way I do stone. Shadows, however, are suffocating, In shadows, I drown.
Silently, I exit the room, closing the door behind me, leaving Alessandro with his thoughts. My eyes land on the stained glass windows on the door just beyond the stairwell. The full moon shines through it, the white light changed by the glass before fragmenting on the floor below. I step toward it, my eyes on the moon. Emma.
Chapter 13
Emma
I stand at the door of the cottage, clutching a mug of black coffee, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and stare up at the moon. It's full tonight, and the pull from my mother's k
ingdom is too much for me to sleep. Wind pulls at my hair, the chill seeping past the soft yellow quilt to my red tee and stonewashed jeans. I shiver mainly out of habit. My skin's temperature is too warm to be truly cold, but old habits are comfortable, safe.
I sigh and lean my head back against the open door's frame. It has been a long day, spent learning as much as we could about Hell from Marcas and Luther. The Craig brothers are an interesting pair; hybrids that have lived decades, centuries even, under the hands of Lucifer and their own mother, Lilith. But it wasn't until Marcas met Dayton that he realized the need for change. He went to war both for Dayton and the hybrids and secured a kingdom for us. It's obvious Luther isn't as loyal to the cause as his brother, but he is loyal to Marcas, and I can respect that.
Ace snorts from the side of the yard, and I feel the presence that startles the lesser Demon without looking up.
"Stalking me, Gargoyle?" I ask, the sides of my lips twitching slightly.
There's a laugh from the roof.
"Just enjoying the moon, same as you," Conor answers.