Gargoyles I, II, III: Dark Angel Alliance

by Rach Elle

  “No, the only thing I want is for you to make an informed decision.”

  Awilda looked back at the white haired Limrid. His tone and expression were grave and gave her the impression he wasn’t just talking about her trust issues. “A decision?”

  Tauggle’s gold eyes bored into hers as he spoke in a dark voice, “A war is coming, Awilda. And it’s coming very quickly. You need to establish your allies and align your forces. I know you think so highly of me and my abilities but make no mistake about it; two Limrids are far better than one. Especially when one of them just happens to be daddy’s little boy. Ultimately, it is up to you. I only suggest you think long and hard before making a decision that’s literally a matter of life and death.”

  Awilda’s body jumped slightly as Tauggle suddenly disappeared; leaving her once again, all alone.

  29

  Junior emerged from the forgotten storage room having just spent an hour lifting weights and sparring against a punching bag. He began crossing the ballroom toward the living room to see if Zeff wanted to go a round when Kingsley entered the space. The two slowed their strides until they were standing next to each other; each facing the opposite direction as if they weren’t acknowledging the other one at all.

  “Thanks for standing up for me earlier,” Kingsley said bitterly, still avoiding eye contact.

  “You’re a big boy. You don’t need me to fight your battles.”

  Kingsley sighed, “You’re going to have to trust me eventually.”

  “I do trust you,” Junior said flatly, “That’s why when the rest of us go out to meet the Finder a couple of nights from now you’ll be the one here; protecting Awilda.”

  “I’d hardly call that a proper utilization of my abilities. I’m stronger than Cooper, Alvin and Mason combined and yet they’re all privy to this little excursion.”

  “True,” Junior nodded, “But you know how much it’s killing me to leave Awilda at all. I’ll feel much better if her shifter is here in case something were to happen.”

  “What do you think is going to happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Junior tightened his jaw, “But she has a target on her back directed from all angles. This is more than just babysitting duty, King.”

  “Yeah, well, it still feels like a copout. A lets-distract-the-old-man-with-busy-work sort of thing. Makes me feel like a real piece of shit. At least have the balls to admit you’re still upset about what I did.”

  Junior took a deep breath and looked at the old man. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re staring in the face of something a lot bigger than you. We don’t know when it’s going to strike but we know it’s going to be soon and I for one don’t feel the least bit prepared to handle it. I can’t waste my time thinking about what has happened. I’m only looking forward and trying to move in the right direction despite the fact that I feel like I’m chasing my own tail.

  “Now, regardless of your feelings on the matter I’m going to aid this clan in hopefully ridding our lives of Protectors so we can concentrate on the impending apocalypse while you stay here and try really hard to not get Awilda killed. Think you can handle that?”

  Kingsley narrowed his eyes at his young friend, “You’re getting too smart for your britches, you know that?”

  “Just tell me if you can handle it.”

  Kingsley smiled, “If the good Lord willin’.”

  Junior winced, “Bad choice of words.” He picked up his feet and continued heading toward the living room as Kingsley began to ascend the staircase.

  30

  Sunders slowly walked up the long, pebbled drive that led to the Vanderburen castle. He’d had to cut his afternoon with Rue short after receiving a phone call from Junior asking him to come over. No matter, he was pretty sure Rue was going to go with the last flat they had seen before lunch. It wasn’t the most luxurious flat, but it was within her price range, close to United Financial, and out of their current neighborhood. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about her being confronted by any of his sleazy, flea infested neighbors. Although, something told him she’d be able to handle herself if an altercation were to arise.

  Sunders reached the front door and lifted his fist to knock before remembering the last time he’d shown up for an appointment. He had officially been given the green light to come and go as he pleased; not as a guest, but as a chum. He smiled to himself and happily opened the door to enter the castle.

  The castle was toasty warm once inside. Sunders removed his jacket as he headed down the main corridor.

  BeStone and Parag stood in the living room, stoic and still.

  “You can have a seat, you know,” Zeff said from the wingchair. He, Alvin and Mason were watching an action movie as the two gargoyles stood like a couple of statues.

  “We are fine,” BeStone answered for the both of them.

  “Suit yourself,” Zeff shrugged. As he tried to concentrate on the movie he couldn’t help but feel awkward with the two gargoyles watching over them. He felt like he needed to give them something to do; entertain them somehow. But he’d already offered them a seat, something to drink and eat, and they turned it all down. Thankfully BeStone’s entire clan wasn’t here. He had said the brothers, Augmen and Cypro, and the females, Viattrice and Amelie were all back at their base camp with Crisp – or – Fazal.

  “So where’s your Limrid?” Alvin asked, as if on cue.

  BeStone’s eyes drifted downward to look at the young man, “He’s back at our hideaway.”

  Zeff cringed. That was another thing that made things awkward with these two. They referred to their temporary home as a ‘hideaway’. He got it; they were technically hiding away from outsiders; humans mostly. But the fact that they refused to tell anyone where this little hideaway was bothered him. Hey, he didn’t like unannounced visitors just as much as the next chap; but he had a feeling that even if he promised to always call first they wouldn’t reveal the location to him.

  “I thought Limrids had to follow their masters everywhere,” Alvin continued.

  “They do, unless ordered otherwise.”

  “Aren’t you afraid he’ll try to skip town or something? I mean, he got away from you before.”

  BeStone’s eyes hardened, “It won’t happen again. I’ve taken the proper precautions, I assure you.”

  “What precautions?”

  “Are you always this inquisitive?” BeStone’s voice was harsh and flat.

  “Are you always a pain in the arse to talk to?”

  Parag tried to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

  BeStone exhaled a heavy breath, “Limrids cannot penetrate iron. Fazal is confined with chains that prevent him from using his powers rebelliously.”

  Alvin pursed his lips, “I thought claimed Limrids couldn’t do that anyway.”

  The dark gargoyle narrowed his eyes, “Ignorance is the ultimate weakness.”

  BeStone, Parag and Zeff all turned their heads toward the entrance to the main corridor at the sound of approaching footsteps. BeStone furrowed his brow. Who could that be? He had taken an inventory of all inhabitants of the castle and their locations. And there would be no reason for any members of his clan to come here; let alone use the front door to enter. After a few seconds a tall, salt and peppered hair man entered the living room. He had his jacket off and draped over his right arm, exposing his left, which swayed as he walked. As the man took another step his arm swung forward. Both BeStone and Parag’s eyes were immediately pulled downward at the sight of a symbol embedded in the skin; a small circle with wings. Instantly, their eyes flashed to red and they bared their fangs; roars exploding from their throats as they lunged forward.

  It took only a half second for Zeff to process the situation. He jumped up and leaped over the chair just as BeStone crashed into Sunders and pinned him against the stone wall. He latched onto BeStone’s arms and tried to pry them off of the Finder.

  Junior rounded the corner to see Sunders being suffocated by th
e Egyptian gargoyle and Zeff trying to stop it. Parag stepped forward and clasped his large hand on Zeff’s shoulders before tearing him away from BeStone. “We’ll handle this,” he growled as he stepped between Zeff and his leader.

  “No,” Junior called as he picked up his pace and approached the altercation. “He’s with us.”

  BeStone turned his head toward Junior, “He’s with the DAA.”

  “We know.”

  BeStone’s red eyes instantly returned to their dark brown as a look of disgust swept his face, “You’re acquaintances with a Protector?”

  “Finder, actually,” Sunders managed to croak under the pressure being applied to his throat.

  “Yeah,” Junior carefully placed his hands on BeStone’s shoulders and gently pulled him away from Sunders, as if not to startle the hungry beast. “We’ve kind of been through this scenario already; long story. Point is; we trust him.”

  “You are aware that this city is crawling with Protectors,” BeStone said matter-of-factly.

  “We know, and he’s been keeping them away from us.”

  “He’s working for you?” Parag crooked a brow. He looked over the Scottish Finder. “We’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Sunders caught his breath and shrugged, “I’m one of a kind, I guess.”

  Zeff approached Sunders and placed his hand on his shoulder, “You alright mate?”

  “Aye,” Sunders nodded, “other than a formal complaint about your welcoming committee, I think I’m good.”

  “Crackin’; Bawls wants to talk to you. He’s upstairs. Through the ballroom at the top of the balcony; second door.”

  “Thanks,” Sunders turned and nodded toward Junior as headed for the ballroom.

  BeStone looked at the two shifters before him with a stern and disapproving glare. After a moment of silence he turned to Parag, “We should be going now.”

  “I’ll walk you up,” Junior quickly volunteered; just in case the duo tried to take another crack at the Finder upstairs. He motioned for the three of them to head up toward the rooftop before glancing over his shoulder at Zeff. “Gym in ten?” He asked.

  Zeff nodded once, “Sounds good.”

  As the two gargoyles and Junior ascended the staircase they crossed paths with Cooper’s descent. She was in her human form with a long fishtail braid and wearing a dark blue, strapless romper. She looked up just in time for BeStone to smirk and bow his head slightly upon eye contact. She reciprocated the silent acknowledgement and continued down toward the living room where her best friend stood; unmoving and uncertain.

  “Are you alright?” She asked as she crossed the expanse of the living room, ignoring Alvin and Mason on the sofa.

  Zeff waited until the gargoyles were out of sight and out of hearing range, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Cooper crooked her brow, “Did something just happen with BeStone and Parag?”

  Zeff shook his head.

  “Good,” Cooper crossed her arms over her chest, “we wouldn’t want any distractions when they come with us Monday night.”

  “Monday night?”

  “Yeah, when we have this little meeting with the head Finder. We can’t have all of you bickering in the wings, now can we?”

  Zeff’s expression hardened, “They can’t be there.”

  Cooper blinked with surprise, “Why not?”

  “They… just can’t,” he charged past her and headed for the wet bar in the far corner. He wanted to reach for a bottle but stopped himself. Instead he just stood next to the black countertop, trying to will the anxiety that ravaged his stomach to dissipate.

  Cooper looked down at the two boys still sitting on the sofa. Alvin and Mason had wisely shut their mouths and decided not to interject in the current conversation. But where their intelligence paled was the moment they thought sitting still and silent would make them blend into the furniture. “Boys,” Cooper began. She nodded toward the exit; prompting them to leave on their own volition.

  Reluctantly, both Alvin and Mason stood from their seats and left the living room; mumbling every step of the way.

  Once the boys were gone, Cooper looked back toward Zeff. “It might prove useful to have all hands on deck when we meet the Finder,” she began, “So if you really don’t think BeStone and his clan should come along then you’re going to have to give me a pretty good reason.”

  Zeff shrugged with his back to his friend, “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about that clan makes me uneasy; particularly BeStone.”

  Cooper nodded, “Is it the horns? Look, I don’t exactly find devil horns endearing either; but there’s not a whole lot he can do about them…”

  “No,” Zeff shook his head and turned to the side; watching Cooper out of his periphery. “It’s not that. I just don’t trust him. It’s something about the way he talks; or the way he moves,” he cursed under his breath, “And the way he looks at her.”

  Cooper stood at attention, “Looks at who?” When Zeff didn’t answer she took a fairly educated guess, “Awilda?” She watched as Zeff slowly nodded, as if he was ashamed of his answer. After a moment of silence she said, “It’s not going to go anywhere. I mean, even if she did become interested in BeStone – and that’s a big if, mind you – something tells me Junior would take an issue with it.” She didn’t know if she was trying to ease Zeff’s trepidation about the concept of BeStone and Awilda – or if she was trying to tell him to move on too. “I know you fancy her,” she cooed. “But I also know you could do better.”

  Zeff scoffed.

  “No really,” she took a step toward him, “I mean, even after you throw out the whole destined-to-kill-us-all thing she’s not that great.”

  He smirked.

  “Honestly Zeff, your choice in women leaves something to be desired.”

  “I chose you,” he turned toward her. Instantly, she took his breath away.

  She looked beautiful as she stood before him; the natural light that seeped through the stained glass window softly illuminated her skin. He stared at her intently from behind his scar wishing he could return to the man he once was; back when she loved him; even if only for a moment.

  Cooper slowly dropped her arms; unsure of what to say next. After a few seconds of silence she conceded with a soft smile, “If you truly have your doubts about them, then we won’t ask BeStone and his clan to join us.”

  She continued to stand still. She wanted to turn and leave the room, but something about the way he looked at her wouldn’t allow it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak. Ignoring her concession he said roughly, “You should know; I would choose you again; every time.”

  Cooper’s breath caught as tears welled in her lower lids. She loved the man before her, but not as she once did. He was once full of life; fun, spontaneous and carefree. But ever since that scar he’d become cold, reserved and severe. She would never stop caring for him. And had he stood before her a month ago; staring at her the way he was now – with so much intensity and fire – she might have gone to him. If he had admitted he still had feelings for her she might have forced herself to reciprocate. But something was different now. Despite her reluctance she found herself falling for someone else.

  Cooper fought back her tears and swallowed the lump in her throat, “I will always love you.”

  If anyone could read between her lines, it was Zeff. And today’s hidden message was a very heavy, heartfelt I’m sorry. Without wincing; without sulking; without punching the wall, cursing, flipping over a piece of furniture and charging out of the room in a fit of despair like he wanted to do – Zeff nodded once and whispered, “I know.”

  He watched as Cooper turned and exited the room.

  31

  Sunders made it to the ballroom and half way up the staircase before showing any signs of being rattled. He’d never seen those two gargoyles before but the situation hardly called for pleasantries and formal introductions. As he continued his ascent he furrowed his brow. The gargoyle t
hat pinned him against the wall looked awfully familiar. Had he seen him before? Perhaps in his non-shifted state. Although, he knew for certain he’d never spoken to the man. He would have remembered that accent.

  Sunders reached the top of the stairs and headed for the second door, assuming it was Bawli’s bedroom. Before knocking he looked over his shoulder at the expanse of the ballroom below. His eyes caught sight of the large print of The Guardian Angel that hung on the wall and his eyes widened. The gargoyle that sat in the painting; the black hair, horns that curled back, and dark skin; could that be… no, he thought; impossible.

  “Someone has to do it Lizzie,” Bawli said as he stared out of the large window in his art studio.

  “But why does that someone have to be you?” Elizabeth asked. Kingsley placed his hands on her shoulders as if to calm her down. She shrugged him off.

  “You know why,” Bawli said quietly.

  A knock sounded at the door. A moment later the door opened and Sunders Harper peered inside. “You wanted to speak to me?”

  Bawli nodded, “Come in. And close the door behind you.”

  Sunders closed his self inside the room. He looked around the dimmed space only lit by a small amount of natural light. There was very little furniture to speak of; a few book shelves filled with random metal scraps and a couple of easels were strewn about. To his left sat bins upon bins of art supplies and to his right was a row of painted canvases propped against the wall, wondering if they would ever be displayed elsewhere. His eyes drifted across the room to see Kingsley and Elizabeth standing side by side and Bawli leaning against a window pane along the back wall. He clasped his hands together as if to break the silence, “I met your new friends downstairs.”

  Bawli lowered his brow in question and looked at Kingsley.

  “BeStone and Parag,” Kingsley clarified.