Gargoyles I, II, III: Dark Angel Alliance

by Rach Elle

  “I… I don’t think so,” Madge stuttered.

  “You don’t think you’re that incompetent? You know what I think?”

  “Hate to break it to ya’ Wade,” Sunders’ Scottish accent sliced through the testosterone. “But no one cares what you think.”

  Wade and Chase looked up to see an incognito Sunders leaning against the doorjamb with a cup of coffee in hand. “Well look who finally decided to show up today.” Wade put his good hand on his hip. “You’ll be happy to know your employee here managed to erase evidence from last night.”

  Sunders looked to Madge, who looked to him for mercy. After a few seconds he shrugged and took a sip from his coffee.

  “Jesus Harper,” Chase began, “Are you pissed? I can smell the whiskey from here.”

  Sunders took off his glasses. A round of gasps could be heard from Corey, Bill and Madge at the sight of his busted face. He ignored them and looked directly at Chase. “It’s scotch, actually.” He took a few steps into the room. “I may have had a few, and that may have damaged some memory cells, but to the best of my recollection our encounter with gargoyles happened in a park on the outside of town. Madge’s computer monitored the hotel. I’m sure whatever chunk is lost was a waste of space anyway.”

  “Good lord Sonny,” Bill stared at him with shock. “Did a gargoyle do all that damage to you?”

  Sunders dead panned to Wade, meeting his severe glare. The image of the Protector standing over him with a blade in hand flashed in his mind. “Aye,” he said flatly, “a gargoyle.”

  Bill turned to Chase, “As soon as you can let me know how many more Protectors we can expect. We’ll arrange accommodations for all of you. Sonny and his team will continue to try and track these monsters and we’ll keep you posted. I expect your team to do the same.”

  Chase nodded.

  “Well then,” Bill continued, “we have no time to waste. Let’s get to work. Madge, use the facilities; clean yourself up.” He left the room. Sunders turned to the side and motioned for the Protectors to leave as well. Reluctantly, they followed suit, giving Madge the stink eye on the way out.

  Sunders entered his office and threw his brown suede jacket on the small sofa that sat against the wall. He reached his desk and turned on his lamp and sat down. Out of habit the first thing he did was start up his laptop and go to a known website. He typed in the specific coordinates and soon the streaming satellite footage appeared on his screen. He was about to zoom in when a small knock sounded at his door and Bill Maines let himself in.

  Sunders shut his laptop, looked up and smiled. “What can I do you for Bill?”

  “I had a few extra questions for you.” Bill walked to the center of the office.

  “Shoot.”

  “What happened to the footage Sonny?”

  Sunders recoiled but quickly recovered. He leaned back in his chair as if more inquisitive than guilty. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come on Sonny,” Bill began. “We’ve been mates for a long time, yeah? You and I both know Madge doesn’t have the know-how to do something like that, even on accident. A specific block of time is missing. It’s awfully suspicious.”

  Sunders made a show of trying to think of a logical explanation. “Maybe there was a power outage.”

  “Except there wasn’t; we had people here during that time who can attest to that.”

  “A glitch then? With the satellite; it’s happened before.”

  “That’s one possibility.” Bill’s tone was flat.

  Sunders cracked a smile and shook his head. He stood from his chair, knowing his height advantage would intimidate his manager; just a little. “I have to say Bill I’m really offended right now; for you to actually think I would sabotage an investigation; especially when we’re this close to catching a gargoyle.”

  “Chase and Wade told me how you didn’t want them to kill those creatures.” Bill cut him off. “Now, I know you Sonny, and I know that you would go to great lengths to do what you think is right.”

  “You also know I’m a man of justice,” Sunders interrupted. He picked up his table lamp and held it to his swollen face. “Look at what those monsters did to me. You think I want to protect them? They’re dangerous; a threat to society. You’re right Bill,” he put the lamp back down. “I have known you a long time; but I never thought you would stoop so low as to accuse me of sabotage.”

  Bill thought for a moment before nodding his head. “You’re right; I’m sorry.”

  Sunders sat back down, “It’s alright.”

  “You will need to do something about the situation.”

  Sunders cocked his head to the side in question.

  “Whether the footage was useful or not it doesn’t change the fact that its evidence and it is missing from Madge’s computer. I expect you’ll take appropriate action.”

  Sunders creased his brow, “like what?”

  Bill shrugged, “a punishment that fits the crime.”

  “Aye,” Sunders nodded, “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Splendid,” Bill smiled. “Now on to other business right quick; I interviewed Chase and Wade about their experience last night. So I can make sure the report is accurate, can you tell me any specific details about the gargoyles you encountered? What they looked like; tall or short, old or young, any markings or scars?”

  Sunders’ mind flashed images of that night. The tattooed gargoyle’s face was clear as day; as was the mug shot he’d seen earlier of Junior Cross. Aye, he knew a lot more about these creatures than he was willing to let on. They shifted into humans, for one. He looked to Bill who stared at him with a grave intensity. He wanted to tell his friend his findings, but something in his gut told him otherwise. Finally, Sunders shook his head, “There was an old one with white hair and a big one with discolored arms. They looked like tattoos, but I didn’t get a real close look.”

  Bill waited for a moment, as if wishing Sunders would say more, “Nothing else?” He finally asked. “No deformities or maybe scars?”

  “Not that I can remember. I’m sorry Bill, but I kind of had a near death experience last night and I think I might still be in a state of shock. Maybe when I can calm down I’ll remember something else; and if that happens you’ll be the first one I tell, good?”

  Bill sighed and nodded his head, “Alright.” He turned to leave but stopped short. “Oh Sonny, one more thing; either control your drinking or get some stronger cologne so I don’t have to work as hard to pretend to not notice, yeah? You’re making me look bad.” He opened the door and left the office, shutting it gingerly behind him.

  Bill Maines walked across the hall and entered his darkened office.

  “Did he tell you anything?” He heard a male voice ask.

  Bill looked up to see his grandson standing in the corner, barely illuminated by the light that seeped in through the window. He looked into his eyes, which were truly a reflection of his own and exhaled slowly, “Nothing the other two didn’t already tell me.” He closed his door and walked to his desk.

  “He had to have erased the footage,” his grandson said.

  “He claims it was a satellite malfunction.”

  “Bullocks.”

  “Maybe.”

  “We have ways of getting information out of him.”

  “No,” Bill lifted his chin. “Sonny will tell me all he knows when the time is right.”

  “And until then?”

  “We’ll monitor him closely.”

  “And what if he never comes around?”

  Bill looked at his grandson and smiled a very crooked smile. “Let’s hope for his sake we never get that far.”

  12

  Awilda Rose had made her way to her favorite part of the castle; the glass tower. She lay on the cold, stone floor and stared at the domed ceiling. The peaceful sounds of the world around danced in her ears; the wind rustling the tree tops as birds chirped and sang. That’s why she ventured up here in the first place. She wanted s
o badly to focus on those pleasantries and take her mind off of what happened the night before; but unfortunately she couldn’t get it out of her head. Well, one aspect, at least; Junior.

  Awilda sighed heavily. She knew she should be either angry or afraid or both after what he had almost done to her in that park. He almost ended her life. But after Kingsley’s admission of guilt for the whole thing and then Junior’s heroism against the Protectors she just couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but endearment for him. She closed her eyes and smiled as she pictured his face. He had a strong, masculine jaw line and tanned skin. He had a dimple on his chin and his brows hung low, creating mystery behind those deep blue eyes. His sleeves of tattoos accentuated his muscles and…

  Awilda’s eyes flipped open at a sudden rush of heat that spread throughout her body. Junior had that effect on her. She tried to concentrate on the cold surface beneath her and took a few calculated breaths to regulate her heart beat. She couldn’t act on these feelings toward him, no matter how much she wanted to. He’d almost killed her, and she was crazy not to be at least a little bit afraid of him. She inhaled a large breath and exhaled it violently; purging herself of all lust and attraction she had for Junior Cross.

  Awilda pushed her body upright and got to her feet. She was about to head down the dark, stone steps into the warmth of the castle when she heard a small thud outside. Curious, she walked to the wall of windows and looked down. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of Junior standing on the rooftop. He was looking downward at a door in the roof. It had been opened and Alvin’s brown, feathered head of hair poked out of it. She could tell he was saying something to Junior…

  Abruptly, Junior looked upward, as if sensing she was staring. She jolted at the surprise and immediately backed away from the window. Her heart rate sped up again. He saw her watching him. He probably thinks I was stalking him. She decided quickly to give herself a purpose for coming to this tower other than to watch Junior; so she opened the wooden door and walked onto the stone staircase that lined the outside of the tower. Carefully, she began her descent away from the rooftop and toward the forgotten storage room. She had been meaning to return there anyway.

  “So, I don’t know if you want to round everyone up but Cooper wants to see you all in the dining hall in about twenty, yeah?”

  Junior looked to Alvin who stood with only his head poking through the opening in the rooftop. He nodded, “We’ll be there.” Alvin smiled and disappeared back into the castle.

  Junior raised his eyes back to the glass tower where he had just seen Awilda watching him. He had come up to this rooftop to get away from everything and everyone. After what the Limrid had said he needed some time to think. Tauggle seemed pretty sure that Awilda was, in fact, the prophesized destroyer. But could Junior really allow himself to fall for that bit again? Regardless, he’d sworn to Awilda and to himself that he would never hurt her; and he intended to keep the promise. Moments later that kid, Alvin, showed up and interrupted his moment of composure to say that they were all summoned to the dining hall; during which he noticed he had an audience consisting of the lovely Awilda Rose. Now he looked up to her again only to see her descending a staircase that didn’t look safe, with the confidence of someone who had walked those steps before. He narrowed his eyes with curiosity before closing the rooftop door and heading toward the tower.

  Awilda descended the stone staircase into the tunnel and left the light of day behind. She ran her slender hand along the wall to guide her as she slowly took each step one by one. Finally, a small beam of light could be seen at the end of the tunnel and she picked up her pace to enter the storage room she’d found yesterday.

  Everything was just as she had left it the day before. A grand piano sat in the corner covered in dust, much like every other object pushed to either side of the large room. Slowly she walked into the center, admiring all the forgotten treasures along the way. She looked to her right to see the small nook where she had found the original painting of The Guardian Angel by Arav Dave. Her eyes drifted to the floor in front of her; dirty, chipped marble that ran the expanse of the room. In front of her on the wall sat the red, velvet staircase that led to two double doors which she found out last time she’d visited, led to unkempt overgrowth on the outskirts of the rose garden.

  Awilda reached the center of the storage room and stopped. The space stood eerily still and quiet. She turned around to face the way she came and watched the corridor from which she entered. She focused on controlling her breathing and keeping her heart rate regulated while anticipating the same happening as yesterday’s. She remembered vividly the deafening thud of each footfall as someone approached; the horned shadow that grew larger and larger as the being came closer. She could remember how frozen she was; unable to move if she was on fire. She watched the entrance intently, waiting for the creature to return, but nothing happened; no feelings of dread sweeping her body and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end; nothing.

  After a few moments Awilda diverted her attention upward and into the corner of the stained glass ceiling where she located the image of the devil. He had red skin with green snakes draped around his neck. His eyes were yellow and his long, black fingernail pointed outward toward the center of the piece. Her eyes narrowed. She could have sworn he was pointing to her the last time she was here. Had she hallucinated the whole thing?

  A distant bang rang out, like metal slamming onto metal and Awilda’s body stiffened. She couldn’t tell exactly where the noise came from, but it echoed from the end of the storage room that she faced. Suddenly, another thud was heard and her eyes shot over to a door she never knew was there. It opened slowly, creaking on its hinges until a figure emerged under the threshold. Awilda’s heart jumped into her throat and her breathing stopped.

  The figure looked at her from the shadows and cocked its head to the side. In a beautiful English accent it asked, “How did you find this place?”

  Awilda’s heart snaked back down her throat and into her chest where it belonged as Zeff walked out of the shadows and toward her. The dirty, small beams of light that shined through the stained glass barely illuminated him as his black tennis shoes lightly tapped against the marble flooring. “Um,” Awilda stuttered, “I was in the tower.” She pointed to her entrance. Zeff looked over his shoulder to see where she came from and smirked. “You traveled an awful long way for something that’s just under your nose.” He looked back to her and motioned over his shoulder to his entrance. “That door leads to the study just off the ballroom.”

  “Oh,” Awilda smiled embarrassingly. She had discovered a room that wasn’t as hidden and forgotten as she thought.

  “What brings you down here?” Zeff asked.

  “I don’t know,” she lied. “I just saw all this stuff and wondered what it was.”

  “Rubbish, mostly,” Zeff shrugged. He pointed to the very back corner to the right of the red velvet staircase. “Except for that; it’s where I have my heavy bag set up. That’s actually what I’m here for.”

  “Your what?”

  “Heavy bag; you know, for boxing.” Zeff motioned for her to follow him and she did. She admired his strong back from behind. He wore a tight black tank top with gray sweats that he rolled up to the knees. The fabric hugged his backside and his calves looked like they were carved out of stone.

  They rounded a pile of randomness to see a small gym set up in the corner, complete with Zeff’s heavy bag.

  “You’re a boxer?” Awilda asked.

  “Mixed martial arts, actually; every now and then I’ll enter into a fight. It’s a great release.”

  “Isn’t that kind of like… cheating?”

  Zeff looked to the girl with a sense of amusement, “How so?”

  Awilda shrugged, “Well, you’re a lot stronger and faster than normal humans on a bad day. Isn’t using that to your advantage cheating? Its not really a fair fight.”

  Zeff nodded slowly as he thought of his rebuttal. �
�I see your point; but how is it any different than a wrestler bringing a striker to the mat for some ground and pound?”

  Awilda bit her bottom lip. “I guess I don’t know much about MMA.”

  Zeff’s voice lowered, “I can teach you,” he smirked.

  Awilda blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Um,” she began, “I guess I should let you get to your heavy bag. I’ll just see myself out.” She turned to leave when Zeff spoke up. “May I ask you one thing?”

  She stopped and turned back to him, “Of course.”

  “Do you think you can handle a Limrid?” His expression was no longer playful; he was serious.

  Awilda squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “You don’t think I can?” Her tone was laced with slight offense.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “I don’t imply,” Zeff looked to her with earnest eyes. “What I say is what I mean; no nonsense.”

  After a moment of silence Awilda softened her posture and looked around at all the junk that surrounded her. “What was this room?” She asked, avoiding the original question.

  Zeff walked with her toward the center of the space. “It was the grand ballroom.”

  “Mason said the one we toured was the only ballroom in the castle.”

  “Mason doesn’t know everything. See,” he pointed to his hidden door. “That is where royalty would enter; and that opening you came through was for the guards. They could easily access the space from their watchtower.”

  He pointed to the small nook that harbored the original Arav paintings. “That was where the servants would retreat so they were out of sight during the festivities and that red staircase back there leads to the guest’s entrance; so no one would have the honor of walking through the castle. And this floor,” he moved some loose dirt around with his foot, “was of course used for dancing.”