Gargoyles I, II, III: Dark Angel Alliance

by Rach Elle

  Junior reached the two in the middle of the room and stood in front of them; fists clenched, jaw tightened, and heavy, angry breathing escaping through his nose. He didn’t look at Awilda; only stared intensely at Kingsley, who knew Junior well enough to know that rage wasn’t the driving force behind his red eyes.

  Kingsley watched as the kid suddenly huffed then turned sharply and exited the ballroom. His eyes drifted back to the study where they landed on Elizabeth. Her face was filled with sorrow, apology and regret. He knew in that moment that she had told him. She told him she was dying from a disease beyond anyone’s control; just as his mother had so many years ago. Junior was a strong man, the strongest he’d ever seen; but all the brawn in the world couldn’t make you immune to the loss of a loved one. In Junior’s eyes Lizzie was already gone and it was undoubtedly killing him.

  Elizabeth averted her tear drenched stare to the dark haired girl standing next to Kingsley. “Awilda,” she began in a broken voice, “May I please speak to you privately?”

  Awilda read the situation and knew whatever Elizabeth had to say it wouldn’t be good news. Hesitantly, she nodded and headed for the study.

  Kingsley watched as the two women disappeared behind the closing door and wondered just how much Elizabeth was going to tell her. Lucky for him Awilda already knew the story behind his intentions. She already thought of him as a selfish bastard and still she forgave him.

  He wanted to go to Junior. He wanted to console his friend and help him realize that the time for mourning wasn’t upon them just yet. Elizabeth was still with them and that needed to be celebrated. Unfortunately, Junior wasn’t exactly a part of his fan club at the moment and wouldn’t listen to a word he said. No, the kid needed to be left alone. He was the epitome of the suffer-in-silence type. Kingsley had a feeling they wouldn’t be hearing a peep out of him for a very long time.

  38

  Junior had been standing on the roof flanked by large stone gargoyles for almost an hour. He hadn’t moved in that time and instead he just stared blankly into the night sky that was clear enough to see the stars. A lot had been going through his mind; first and foremost the most recent news he received about Elizabeth and her cancer. That train of thought brought him to his mother and all the time he spent watching her die; slowly dwindling and fading away right in front of him. Her image reminded him of Kingsley and how he revealed she had been a believer in the prophecy all along; and that was how he landed on the inner turmoil currently plaguing his mind.

  Junior wanted so badly not to believe in the prophecy, but the prospect that it was real continued to grow day by day. He couldn’t ignore the Limrid that spoke with such certainty and the fact that Awilda had been having visions of hell, possession and winged creatures for years before ever discovering their kind.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to relieve the headache he got every time he considered Awilda as the destroyer. Impossible, right? He couldn’t be so sure anymore. But perhaps the most unnerving part of it all was that he, for all intents and purposes, had been deemed the prophetic savior; the one man responsible for saving the human race. He didn’t want that burden. He didn’t want that responsibility. He already had a Responsibility and she was dying of cancer and yet that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to his plight. This was all too much for one man. He opened his eyes and stared into the sky at the brightest star. If there was a God he sure loved putting him through hell.

  “Junior?”

  Junior whipped his head to the right to see Awilda climbing out of the ceiling door and onto the flat rooftop. He didn’t say anything; just returned to star gazing.

  Awilda stood with her arms wrapped around her torso to shield herself from the cold. Slowly, she walked over to the large, tattooed man who stood still and silent. Softly, she spoke, “Elizabeth told me.” She could see his chest rise and fall with a large breath. “She actually apologized; can you believe it? I’ve never heard of anyone apologizing for being sick before; but I guess she blames herself for Kingsley’s actions.”

  Junior winced and clenched his fists.

  “Anyway,” Awilda stood next to Junior. She could feel his body heat she was so close. She wanted to touch his arm, to caress his skin with the affection she knew he was craving. Instead she kept her hands tucked under her arms. “I wanted to make sure you’re alright. I know this is difficult for you and I want you to know that I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

  “A brain tumor,” Junior’s deep voice said without emotion. “Operable; but she denied treatment. She said she’s at that time in her life when all she has the right to do is let the chips fall as they may.” He took a deep breath. “She said she’s not as dizzy as she thought she would be. She gets tired a lot, but her head rarely hurts. She said she thinks it’s a sign that she’s doing the right thing and she feels good about her decision.”

  Softly, Awilda asked, “And how do you feel about it?”

  Without injecting any emotion into his words, “I’m pissed off.”

  Junior’s stare never wavered from the stars as the two stood in silence for another minute or so. The time seemed to last forever as they looked out at the distant city and the never ending night sky.

  Awilda looked down at her shoes and the pair of skinny jeans Cooper had bought for her and bit her bottom lip in thought. Nervously, she spoke again, “I want you to know that I’m sorry I pulled away from you. You know, when you kissed me. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get involved with anyone. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of damaged.

  “That was my first kiss, actually. But you probably already knew that. I wasn’t exactly an expert at it.” She forced a small laugh to ease the mood. But when Junior didn’t reciprocate and still said nothing, she took the hint and turned to leave.

  Junior’s heart ached and suddenly he heard himself blurting out a series of words that he’d wanted her to hear almost since the moment he met her, “I love you, you know.” He turned his head toward her. She stopped walking and slowly looked at him over her shoulder.

  “I know,” she whispered, her voice laced with sadness. “But you deserve someone who hasn’t been labeled clinically insane.”

  Junior cringed. Here was another woman rejecting him; denying him all because they thought they knew what he did and didn’t deserve. “You’re not insane,” he said matter-of-factly; his eyes suddenly filling with intensity and longing. “You’re honest, kind, forgiving and funny. You’re an excellent Chess player and when you cock your head to the side in confusion my chest swells. Your brown eyes are mesmerizing and even when you’re wearing baggy pajama bottoms and a ratty t-shirt I get a hard on.” He watched her blush as she averted her eyes to the rooftop. “You want to talk about who deserves what?” He continued, “You deserve to be happy; with or without me – although I prefer with. But regardless of your choice you need to know how much I love you; it’s unwavering and all encompassing and it’s not going to go away just because you don’t think enough of yourself to warrant a man’s affection. Look at me,” she looked up and met his intense stare. “I won’t push; but I won’t leave either. Wherever you go I won’t be far behind and whenever you need anything I’ll be there for you. I care about you deeply and I will do anything to protect you; whether you feel the same or not. Do you understand?” When she didn’t say anything he pressed further, “Tell me you understand what I’m telling you.”

  Awilda nodded, hoping the motion would help loosen the lump in her throat. Finally she managed to swallow and choke out, “I understand.”

  “Good,” he returned to the stars, “if you ever change your mind you know where to find me.”

  Awilda stood completely oblivious of what to say or do. She wanted so badly to tell Junior she felt the same for him. She wanted to know what it felt like to have his hard body on top of hers and his blue eyes boring into her soul; but she couldn’t bring herself to move or speak. The truth, whether Junior realized it or not, was
that he wasn’t in love with her. He was in love with his idea of her. The way he had kissed her showcased the raw strength and power he longed for; the strength and power she realistically didn’t have. She wasn’t experienced or sensual; she was naïve and cowardly. If she confessed her longing to share his bed he would find out all too quickly that she wasn’t the woman he had imagined and his love for her would disappear. She couldn’t fathom being near him every day knowing he didn’t think she was enough for him.

  Awilda watched as Junior stood in silence. He was tall, muscular, and genuinely kind with a heart that filled every nook and cranny of his broad chest; he was a perfect dream; and she preferred to keep him that way.

  Slowly and quietly, Awilda turned and took the ladder step by step down into the warmth of the castle.

  Junior was once again alone. He allowed his mind to process Awilda’s words; that was my first kiss, actually. His chest swelled with pride knowing he was the first man she parted her lips for. He could feel himself harden, his length pushing against the fly of his jeans as he longed to be her first for so many other things. He wanted to know what it felt like to have her tremble as he touched her; to hear her gasp as he put his mouth on her. But despite his overwhelming desires to be inside of her he was bound to his promise; he wouldn’t push. He would wait for her to change her mind; to climb into bed with him and open her legs because she wanted him.

  Junior exhaled a sudden breath, as if he was just punched in the stomach. He made his way to the opening in the rooftop and listened to make sure the coast was clear. When he couldn’t hear any movement he climbed down into the castle and quickly headed for his bathroom to take yet another shower.

  39

  2 weeks ago

  Mt. Charleston, Nevada…

  Jessie Zane woke to a hand nudging her ribcage. She opened her eyes to realize she’d been sleeping on the couch in Maxi and Derek’s living room. It took her only a moment to remember the events that led her here; her heart suddenly racing at the thought of the Protectors who were undoubtedly keeping their eyes and ears peeled for anyone that may have escaped the compound before the explosion. She forced herself to take a deep breath before lifting her eyes to see Maxi standing over her.

  “Come on,” Maxi said sternly, “It’s time for you to go.”

  Jessie wrapped her arms around her chest as the freezing night wind whipped through her hair and swirled around her body. The jacket Maxi had given her provided little protection from the stinging gusts.

  Maxi was driving her ATV rapidly down the mountain to the spot where Jessie had left her rental car. She didn’t know why her friend was kicking her out so early, but she didn’t argue. It was clear she had overstayed her welcome; considering the fact that she was never welcomed to begin with.

  The ATV slowed to a stop a short distance from where the rental car sat. Jessie sadly wrapped her hand around the door handle to let herself out.

  “3 PM,” Maxi said suddenly.

  Jessie turned her head to look at her, “What?”

  “His name is Noah,” she handed Jessie a piece of paper with the name of a bar on it. “He’ll be expecting you at 3 PM.”

  “Who is he?”

  Maxi shrugged, “You wanted a new identity; he’s the man to do it.”

  Jessie stared at the piece of paper in her hand for a moment.

  “He’s the best in the business,” Maxi continued, “if you play your cards right then by tomorrow night you’ll be someone else entirely. He’ll be the only one privy to your new identity.”

  Jessie could feel her throat tighten, “Thank you,” she whispered.

  After a moment of nothing but the sound of the howling wind, Maxi spoke, “I’m glad you made it Jessie.” The two friends looked at each other and smiled. Maxi pulled a small, black generic cell phone from her pocket and handed it to the blonde next to her. “It’s untraceable; you can call me any time.”

  Jessie took the phone and a small tear formed in the corner of her eye. “And take this too,” Maxi began. She gave Jessie a small handgun; one easily concealed under clothing. “There’s a hidden pocket in the lining of that jacket,” She said as her friend took the gun. She smiled, “Just in case.”

  As Jessie climbed out of the ATV Maxi called to her one last time, “Hey, I stuck my neck out to get you this meeting; don’t make me look bad.” A playful smirk crossed her lips as Jessie shut the door. She threw the ATV in drive and the vehicle lurched forward before making a U-turn and heading back up the mountain.

  Jessie watched her friend disappear as a small rain drop landed on her blonde hair. She looked up to the sky to see it preparing to rain. She heeded its warning and ran toward her car where she would spend her last hours as Jessie Zane.

  40

  Present Day

  London, England…

  Awilda was frantically searching the steel cabinets in the kitchen for frying pans, spatulas; anything she could use to make her father breakfast. He had arrived only a few moments ago and was sitting alone in the living room; waiting for the meal she offered to make him. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d offered though. She didn’t know how to make much; scrambled eggs were pretty much the extent of it. She hoped like hell it would be enough.

  Awilda had had a lot of time to think over the course of the night. She barely slept with the building anticipation of spending the day with her dad. Oh sure, she was weary and unsure of him. He did, after all, skip out on her when she was ten and refuse to visit her when she was in the asylum; but the way he spoke to her and looked at her last night – with genuine, sincere apology – made her inner child scream with glee at the prospect of having her dad around again. He was the only family she had left and she’d be an ignorant ass for shutting him out due to spite; even though he did deserve it.

  The cabinets kept clanking as she opened and shut each one looking for that damn frying pan.

  “You’re going to wake the dead,” Tauggle’s voice sounded right behind her. She jolted and whipped her body around to see the levitating Limrid watching her with a small smirk on his face.

  “Tauggle,” Awilda said in a whisper, “you can’t be seen like this. My dad is in the other room and he has no idea you exist.”

  James had been sitting in the living room in silence listening to the constant slamming of cabinet doors in the kitchen. Finally he decided to do the fatherly thing and help his daughter with breakfast; although he didn’t really know how to cook. No matter, all he needed was a frying pan and a spatula and voila; scrambled eggs. As he headed down the hall he wondered if these people had any Tabasco sauce to top it off.

  James could hear the clanking sound growing louder and louder until suddenly it stopped. Awilda must have found what she was looking for. He contemplated turning around but figured he’d come this far; might as well lend a helping hand. He neared the corner, preparing to round it into the kitchen when he heard the sound of his daughter whispering to someone. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. He slowed and softened his footfalls as he pressed his body against the wall. He reached the corner and cautiously peered into the kitchen. His breath caught; directly in front of him was a man with pale skin and stark white hair; and he was levitating over the kitchen island. James quickly hid behind the wall again; his eyes wide with horror and wonder. Without a doubt he knew that floating man was a Limrid. True minions will flock; the third sign. The Ultimate War was drawing nearer; he didn’t have much time.

  James headed back down the hall back to the living room where he was supposed to be. On the way he passed a powder room and decided to duck in there for a moment. Once behind the closed door he pulled out his cell phone and chose a number off of his contact list. He put the phone to his ear and listened to three rings before the female voice on the other end finally picked up.

  “Regina,” James began in a hushed voice, “It has to be tonight.”

  Regina agreed without any questions asked. She began to ramble off some plan about how
to get the girl alone so they could end this prophecy thing before it even started. James barely listened to her words. His eyes drifted upward to the mirror above the pedestal sink. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face and highlighted the dark circles around his aged eyes. His scruff was thicker and longer than he normally allowed it to grow; forming a beard and hiding his jaw line. A tiny flicker appeared in his brown eyes as he thought of the Limrid he’d just witnessed. Arav’s words circled in his head and suddenly he felt unsteady. He latched onto the side of the sink for support and hung his head for a moment.

  “No,” he heard himself demand, cutting Regina off mid sentence. He slowly looked up into the mirror, “I have a different idea.” His voice was dark and severe as he laid out his plan and stared into his own tired, power hungry reflection.

  41

  Sunders left his flat and began his four block trek to United Financial. The cold wind danced around him as he eyed every passerby and every adjacent street wondering if he was being watched by the clan.

  He entered the United Financial building to the familiar smile of the receptionist. He had never been so happy to see her acknowledge him. When he first showed up with a fat lip and a black eye the size of Loch Ness she did everything she could to avert her eyes. Her silent yet warm greeting on this morning meant he was looking more like himself again. The swelling had gone down completely and the bruising was a collection of browns and yellows which blended much nicer into his normal complexion. Yes, things were getting back to normal. Well, with the exception of discovering an entire clan of shape-shifting gargoyles that were probably watching him at this very moment. And then, of course, the fact that he couldn’t tell anyone about it was making him anxious and a little itchy; but that was nothing compared to the daunting task that lay ahead of him. He would now have to lead the Protectors on a wild goose chase and then incompetently lose the trail altogether deeming him, once again, the joke of the Dark Angel Alliance.