Gargoyles I, II, III: Dark Angel Alliance

by Rach Elle

  As quietly as she could, Awilda sat up and inched herself to the edge of the bed. She dropped her bare feet to the floor and headed to the window. She unlocked it and carefully lifted it upward, allowing gusts of air to rush her and give her instant goose bumps. She hissed from the sudden chill and looked back to make sure she hadn’t woken Junior. He still sat in the same position, eyes closed. She returned her attention to the open window and leaned out, looking for any opportunity for escape. She needed to get back to Simon; the memory of her flying further and further away from the ground as he called and reached to her played over and over in her mind. She stuck her head out the window and searched for a ledge to step onto, a gutter or pipe to shimmy down; anything.

  “Would you please not do anything stupid?” Junior’s voice spoke calmly from the other side of the room. Awilda whipped her head around to see him staring at her. “I really don’t feel like leaping out of the window to save you right now.” He smirked.

  “How long have you been awake?” Awilda asked as she shut the window in annoyance.

  “Long enough to watch the wheels turn in that crazy brain of yours; I told you, you’re just like Clive.”

  Awilda huffed and made her way back to the bed. She lied down as if preparing to go back to sleep, ignoring his little inside joke. She hadn’t forgotten the look in his eyes as he told her she was his prisoner and was never letting her go.

  There was a small knock on the door just before the beeping of a card swipe sounded. In a swift motion Junior stood and pulled the chair away from the door as it opened and Elizabeth popped her head in.

  “We’re back from shopping.” She smiled and brought into view a large garment box. “Here’s, um, your order.”

  Junior grabbed the box and placed it on the chair, “Thanks Lizzie.”

  Awilda watched as Elizabeth disappeared behind the door and Junior locked it, pushing the large chair back into place. She thought for a moment, Elizabeth was back from shopping? “How long was I sleeping?”

  Junior smiled, “All morning; its lunch time.”

  “I thought Elizabeth and King were going to be shopping all day.”

  “Yeah, well, the plans changed. They had to cut it a little early.”

  “And what plans are those?”

  Junior picked up the phone and dialed room service. “I’ll tell you after lunch.”

  31

  The receptionist tensed instantly at the sight of the visitors. Two large men dressed in camouflage pants and black muscle tees entered the United Financial building. Their combat boots pounded against the marble floor as they walked in unison with tight fists and dead stares. The tall one with the crew cut stopped in front of Denise’s desk while the one with the Mohawk continued onward toward the elevators. “We’re here to see Sunders Harper.” The tall one announced.

  “Um,” Denise stuttered, “fourth floor.”

  The tall one forced a smile before turning to meet his partner at the elevators. When the doors opened they stepped inside and pushed the button to the fourth floor, refusing anymore eye contact with Denise and any other employee that happened to be roaming the lobby.

  On the fourth floor Sunders was sitting in his office alone with the image of a rooftop on his computer screen. To any passersby it would appear to be a still photo, but in reality it was streaming satellite footage of his ex-wife’s house. It had the perfectly manicured lawn complete with swing set and tree house in the backyard. In the front yard sat a small water feature and a hand painted mailbox shaped like a cow. Sunders rolled his eyes. Darla always did love that country crap. He imagined her kitchen was probably decked out in roosters and pigs and quilted hearts. There was probably a sign hanging above the stove that said “Happy Hearts Cook Here”. He never did let her decorate their kitchen, or any room in their home, with that kind of theme. Maybe if he had…

  Sunders shook off his thoughts of ‘what if’ and refocused on the house. Darla should be pulling into the driveway any moment; bringing the youngest of the two boys home from pre-school. He remembered how adamant she was in enrolling their son in pre-school at such a young age. She said he needed to build social skills. Sunders lowered his head and ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair; what he wouldn’t give to see his son in school; excelling, making friends; no doubt the class clown just like him. Under Darla’s smothering rule, however, he figured this boy would eventually rebel and turn out to be a NED.

  “Sonny!” Madge quickly opened the door to his office and poked her head in. “They’re here.” She whispered frantically.

  With annoyance Sunders closed his laptop and any evidence of his afternoon pastime and looked up to the overweight, middle-aged woman standing in his doorway. “Who’s here?” He asked.

  “The Protectors,” she whispered again.

  Sunders jumped from his seat and hurried to the door. Madge returned to her cubicle as two Protectors in cliché camouflage pants and spiked bracelets made their way down the hall. Sunders quickly adjusted his tie and stepped out from behind the door, preparing to greet the two; but as if on cue they turned sharply into an adjacent office space. Sunders crinkled his nose and brows in confusion. That office belonged to Roderick, the head of water based mythology. Why would they be going in there? Unless the team got a bead on that banshee they’d lost track of a couple of months back. No, Sunders shook his head; he’d just spoken to two members of the team a few nights ago and they were still searching. Even if they’d located the creature the Protectors wouldn’t have responded this quickly. Curious, Sunders headed down the hall as if going to the break room. Just as he reached the office door where he would suddenly have the need to tie his shoe within earshot, the door was slammed shut, thwarting any eavesdropping he had planned. Now he was more curious than ever.

  Simon Crispin stood outside a fourth story window on the fire escape smoking a cigarette. He leaned casually against the railing and watched as the tiny clouds of smoke barreled from his lips and danced playfully in front of him before dissipating entirely. It amused him; the visible flow of oxygen in the chilled spring air. It was a nice distraction from the current happenings. Awilda had been kidnapped and he supposed it was his fault. He left her alone; not that he could have truly protected her. As more smoke escaped his lips he scowled at his own inadequacies. Being a mere human sucked. No way could he go toe to toe with those monsters and come out the victor.

  A heavy set woman with thick-rimmed glasses poked her head out the window. What was her name? Mudge? Mugg? “The Protectors are here. You might want to come inside.” She smiled nicely and retreated to the warmth of the building.

  Crisp decided it would be in his best interest to follow her lead. He retrieved the cig from his mouth and put it out on the railing he leaned against. His eyes followed the now dead butt as he flicked it toward the ground and caught the slight movement of something rummaging through the dumpster below.

  The creature was anorexic with skin stretched thinly across bat-like wings. Its claws dug through the trash looking for food, most likely. Crisp narrowed his eyes as the creature stopped and slowly turned his head upward, locking eyes with the man on the fire escape. The Limrid sniffed the air before moving into a pouncing position. He bared his tiny brown fangs and hissed, his wings stretching as far as they could to make him seem larger and more intimidating. Crisp rolled his eyes and went inside.

  32

  Awilda finished her lunch despite her stubborn pride telling her not to; but what good would starving herself do? If she wanted to free herself from Junior and Kingsley and reunite with Simon then she needed as much strength as she could muster.

  Junior emerged from the bathroom in a pair of jeans and a clean, black V-neck t-shirt. She could smell his cologne from across the room and tried to hide the joy her nostrils took in inhaling the scent. He smelled heavenly. His biceps were nearly bulging from his shirt and his jeans hugged his hips and thighs perfectly. She remembered what it felt like to have him hold her the
night before; even though it came from a place of manipulation, she couldn’t deny the fact that she loved being in his arms.

  “I have something for you.” He spoke.

  She quickly shook off the memory from last night and crooked an eyebrow in interest. He grabbed the garment box from the large chair that had reclaimed its place in front of the fireplace and handed it to Awilda. She sat on the edge of the bed with the large gift on her lap. It was a plain white box with an oversized red ribbon tied around it. “What’s this for?” She asked.

  Junior shrugged, “I saw it the other day and thought you might like it.”

  Carefully, Awilda removed the ribbon and opened the box. She removed the white tissue paper to reveal a beautiful red sundress with yellow flowers at the hemline. She recognized it immediately from the store window she’d admired during her shopping spree with Simon and Sunders. She lifted the dress from the box to see the low neckline and the matching belt hanging loosely around the fabric, as well as a pair of matching heels sitting at the bottom of the box. She was stunned as she looked to Junior. “How did you know?” Was all she could say.

  “I saw you looking at it.” Junior smiled.

  Awilda wanted to smile back, but couldn’t bring herself to. “You were following me?”

  Junior’s smile dropped as he nodded, hoping she wouldn’t be upset.

  Her eyes went cold and rigid. With a flat tone she whispered, “This won’t make me like you.”

  “Why not; it worked for the Finder.” He instantly regretted his tone.

  “He wasn’t trying to trick me into liking him.”

  “Like hell he wasn’t. You’re his ticket to bagging a shifter. You think spending a little extra money to keep you happy is beneath him?”

  “He wasn’t holding me prisoner like you.” Awilda sniped back.

  “Yeah, he was; he wasn’t going to let you leave until he was finished with you. Tell me, exactly what was his plan?”

  “He didn’t have one.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t care if you believe me. Once the Protectors get here they’ll hunt you down with or without me.”

  Junior’s eyes widened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. “What did you say?”

  “I’m saying I’m pointless to you too so you might as well just let me go.” Awilda lowered her head to stare at the dress sitting in her lap. She tried not to cry; she didn’t want to get the pretty thing wet.

  “No,” Junior ignored that part, “What about the Protectors?”

  Awilda sniffled, “I don’t know. I guess they’re people who have experience with your kind. They told Sunders, or the Finder, as you call him that they would be here soon to help him.”

  Junior walked toward Awilda and bent down in front of her. Even on one knee he was larger than she. “What else did Sunders tell you?”

  “Nothing,” Awilda shrugged, “and even if he did, why would I tell you?”

  “Because even though you don’t like me you know I’m not dangerous; but the Protectors are; and they will stop at nothing to kill Kingsley and me.”

  “They don’t want to kill you; they just want to…” Awilda thought for a moment. For the first time she wondered what would actually happen to the gargoyles when the Protectors got to them.

  “Exactly,” Junior finished her thought.

  Awilda creased her brows and tightened her lips. “Are you going to hurt them? If they find us, I mean.”

  Junior nodded, “If they try to hurt any one of us; then yes.”

  “Will you kill them?”

  Junior exhaled deeply. Wasn’t that a loaded question, “Only if I have to.”

  Awilda did everything she could to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. “Please don’t hurt Simon.”

  “Who?”

  “He was my doctor, but he’s also my friend.” Junior thought back to Blondie at Bain. He cringed at the thought of letting that smug little bastard go. He looked into Awilda’s pleading eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

  33

  Sunders waited impatiently in the fourth story hallway. Finally the two Protectors emerged from Roderick’s office and headed toward him.

  “It’s about time,” Sunders sniffed.

  “Were you waiting for us?” The tall Protector with the crew cut asked in a thick, Irish accent.

  “Is there some water based emergency we should be worried about?” Sunders nodded in the direction of Roderick’s office.

  The Protector with the Mohawk responded bluntly, “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

  So fucking cliché, Sunders tried not to roll his eyes. “Of course it is; now can we get down to why I called you here?”

  “We read the report,” Crew Cut began, “you have a gargoyle for us.”

  “For you to track down, yes; where’s the rest of you?”

  The Protectors looked at each other. “We’re it.”

  “What? You can’t be serious. These are dangerous creatures and I have a bead on more than one. You’ll need more than just two people.”

  “The others are tied up at the moment.” Crew Cut interrupted. “We’ll survey the situation and if we think it’s necessary then we’ll get some more troops out here. Judging from the last excursion you led us on, however, I’m guessing that won’t be the case.”

  Sunders cringed; the Protectors were never going to let him live Egypt down. “Well I think even you will be impressed by the work my team has done. We know exactly where they are.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “They kidnapped the girl I was using to lure them to me; but not before I placed a tracking device in the sole of her shoes.”

  The Protectors looked disgusted. “Goddamn Harper, you brought a civilian into this?”

  “She was more than willing.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “They’re holed up in a hotel; I’m guessing the basement or some isolated area where they can hide.”

  “And how many gargoyles are there?”

  “At least two.”

  The Protectors rolled their eyes and shook their heads. “You don’t even know how many we’re up against.”

  “I figured that was up to you to determine.” Sunders snipped.

  “Gentlemen,” Bill Maines, director of the Finders, poked his head out of his office. “Perhaps the hallway isn’t the appropriate place to discuss this. We can go over the logistics of the mission in my office. Sonny, gather any evidence and information you may have that will help these two and meet us in here in five.”

  The two Protectors scoffed as their combat boots stomped into Bill’s office and shut the door. Sunders thought about heading into his office. He figured he could grab the tabloid article that started this whole thing and maybe Dr. Crispin’s presence would help legitimize his findings. After all, not only was he a star witness to the kidnapping but he also knew everything there was to know about Awilda. Through his study of her he’d done research on gargoyles trying to decipher the reason as to why they were plaguing her mind all these years. He could be a very valuable asset; but first, Sunders headed in the opposite direction.

  Roderick was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. He had a feeling of hopelessness and impending failure when a set of knuckles wrapped against his office door. “Come in.” He called.

  Sunders entered the office. Roderick stood instantly. “Oh, hey Sonny,” he greeted him grimly.

  “Hey Rod, just thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.” He closed the door behind him.

  “Oh, well, I’m doing alright. A lot of stress, but that’s the name of the game I suppose.” Roderick’s English accent was smooth, flawless and refined; a stark contrast to Sunders’ hard Scottish one.

  “Aye,” Sunders nodded. “What was it those Protectors were doing in here earlier?”

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing important,” Roderick walked toward the door and held out his hand, as if politely leading Sunde
rs out of the office, but Sunders stood his ground. “I am really busy though, Sonny. I better get back to the ole grindstone, as they say.” He laughed awkwardly as he began to open the door. Sunders held out his hand and pushed it shut again, backing Roderick against the wall.

  “Come on, Rod; we’re all friends here. If there’s some water-based crisis then maybe I can help.”

  “No, that’s not it.” Roderick wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I can’t tell you; it’s classified.”

  Sunders lifted his brows in surprise. “Oh, well if it’s classified then I guess I don’t need to press any further.”

  “Thank you Sonny,” Roderick breathed.

  Sunders turned to leave. “I mean, if I ever again detect a shift in weather patterns coinciding with discrepancies in riptides; which, by the way, was the reason for your last big discovery of Sprites; I guess I’ll just keep it to myself because, well, it’s classified.” He placed his hand on the doorknob.

  “Wait.” Roderick stopped him. He inhaled a deep, agitated breath, “Fine, but you can’t tell anyone else, are we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Okay, I don’t know all the details; but apparently there was a prison break in one of their facilities in the U.S.”

  “One of their facilities? How many do they have?”

  “I don’t know; but there was some sort of explosion and no way to identify the remains.”

  “So no way to tell who lived and who died.”

  “More like what lived and died.”

  Sunders furrowed his brows, “They think some creatures escaped.”

  “Evidence supports the idea.” Roderick nodded. “Now they want my team to find the runaways. It’s codswallop; we have no idea what we’re looking for. We don’t know what patterns or stories to chase; but I do know that if we don’t produce they’re going to blame us even though it was their malfunction in the first place.”

  “Typical,” Sunders sniffed. “Well, keep up with it Rod, I’m sure you’ll find something. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to Bill’s office; Protectors are so impatient, you know.”