by Candace Sams
It was the wrong move. There in front of her stood a nightmare. A nude, man-like beast with glowing green eyes and grayish skin, it stood a full eight feet tall and had long talons at the ends of its massive hands. Horns like those of a bull protruded from its forehead, and fangs rivaling those of a tiger replaced what should have been incisors in its upper jaw. Long pale hair flowed like a river down its humped back and shoulders. The headlights on the car illuminated every feature of its naked male body. Heather was petrified. She couldn't move or scream. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for the existence, much less attack, of such a creature. It threw back its gargoyle-like shoulders, shook its huge head and laughed deeply. Drool from its gruesome mouth spattered across the hood and windshield of her car.
"What's the matter, Heather? Playing hard to get again?" the demon spoke loudly as it glared at her.
"Oh my God..Niall." Heather whispered.
The beast quickly stalked around the car to the driver's side. She locked the door, but she knew he would get to her one way or another. When he saw what she'd done, he smiled sickeningly. Grayish foam dripped from his jaw.
"Locks won't keep us apart, bitch," Niall sneered. "You've got two things I want. One is the stone, the other is between your legs. Before the night is over, I'll have both."
Heather plunged the gas pedal to the floor, but Niall's strength was so great the car would only lurch forward, wheels spinning on the pavement. She clawed her way to the opposite door. There was a horrible sound of tearing metal as Niall neatly ripped the driver side door off the car frame. Like a can opener peeling the lid from a soup can. In an instant, she was out the passenger side door and running for her very life. She could hear him roar with rage and knew he would be upon her in seconds if she couldn't get to help quickly. She ran toward the park, toward an all-night diner on the other side. If she could get to a phone, to where there were people congregated, surely Niall wouldn't follow. It was her only chance.
She could hear heavy, fast footsteps coming from behind. Heather turned into a stand of trees and hoped the thick undergrowth beneath them would help hide her. She stopped behind the trunk of a large oak to catch her breath. She couldn't run forever. Though the night was cold, sweat poured from her body. It ran into her eyes and burned. She swiped at them with the back of one forearm.
"Come out, Heather," his deep voice crooned. "Maybe I'll decide to spare your sorry little life. If you please me, that is. I have the power of the ages at my fingertips. The stones have given me that power. I no longer need them to make the change, but possessing them keeps anyone else from obtaining their spell and stopping me. One of them is gone, but I'm sure you know where it is. Don't you, Heather? I want it back. Come out, and maybe I'll share the secrets of the stones with you. We could be invincible, have anything we desire. We could rule together."
The sound of his eerie voice made her skin crawl. It was like hearing him speak through an amplifier. He was insane, and knowing he'd do worse than kill her, she stayed hidden. More than ever, she knew she had to get the stone in her pocket to Gryph. If what Niall said was true, no one must ever have any of them. Gryph had been right about everything. Her trust in him hadn't been misplaced.
"I said come out, you little whore. Your Irish friend isn't here to stop me now. I killed him just the way I killed that old fool in the museum, the same way I killed that harlot in the park. She was like you. Thought she was too good for me. Well, what do you think of me now, Heather?" he asked as his eyes began to glow green again. "I'm four times the size of any man. All of me. That should please even you. Little Miss Prude. Little Miss Tease!"
Heather thought she would vomit. Niall had killed Ned and the prostitute. He thought he'd killed Gryph. But she believed he wouldn't kill her until he could get back the stone Shayla now had. She didn't want to think about what he'd do to make her tell him where it was. Lowering her stance, she quietly crawled forward into some nearby shrubbery. Thorns, brambles and assorted vines tore into the soft skin of her lower arms and hands. She could hear him lumbering about, looking for her. And the glow from his eyes lit the bushes nearby. She heard him roar in anger when he couldn't find her and she wouldn't respond to his demands. She kept crawling forward. Her heart beat a drumming sound she was sure would give her away. Niall would grab her at any moment. Her mouth had gone dry, and she was shaking so hard it was difficult to move quietly.
When she neared a clearing about fifty yards wide, she knew she'd have to make the best run of her life. He'd see her in the waning light for sure. But the major street where the diner was situated lay beyond the trees, on the other side of that clearing. It was now or never, and Heather wasn't about to give up. It wasn't in her nature. If Niall wanted her, he was going to have to run hard to catch his prey. She thanked God for the miles of jogging that had seemed such an ordeal.
Taking a deep breath, she bolted. Niall saw her and propelled his gargantuan form forward, but Heather had too much of a head start. She was into the stand of trees on the other side of the clearing and heading toward a row of park lamps. Several couples and some homeless people moved about beneath the lights. Heather kept running until she had crossed the street where the glass doors of the diner welcomed her like the entrance to a fortress. Panting, she navigated through the tables to the counter. No one seemed to notice. This is New York for you. She was bleeding from cuts, wore brambles in her hair and had been obviously running. But no one even questioned her.
"Is there a phone I could use?" she gasped out at the employee behind the counter.
"In the corner," he replied, without looking up from his newspaper.
Heather searched through her torn jeans pockets and found some change. She couldn't call the police. They'd think she was crazy. She didn't have a phone number to call Gryph, so she picked up the remnant of a telephone book and looked up a taxi company. Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up outside the diner and Heather gave the driver the address to the house where Gryph and his parents were staying. As the car pulled away, she looked out the rear window. There was no sign of anyone or any thing on the street. That wasn't surprising. Niall would never show himself in the form of that demon. He was insane, not stupid.
***
Twenty minutes passed before the cab pulled up in front of the house. The cab driver, like the employee at the diner, hadn't seemed to notice her appearance. The man seemed more intent on listening to the radio. Besides, he'd probably seen people in much worse condition. In the time the drive had taken, Heather had pulled what was left of her sense together, but the situation was catching up with her emotions. She pulled the money to pay the cab driver out of her pockets, ran to the front door and pounded on the heavy oak with her fists.
Gryph, barefoot, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, opened the door. Funny. That was the first thing that came to her mind. Aside from being as handsome as sin, he looked completely normal. He wore none of the strange, black leather clothing she'd previously seen, and he made none of his usually cryptic remarks. Just stood there staring.
Heather began to laugh. Her hands covered her face, and she fell to her knees in front of him. Her laughter turned hysterical. Gryph knelt and pulled her to him.
"What's happened?" he asked as he lifted her into his arms and closed the door with the heel of one foot. Her arms went about his neck, and she clung to him. Gryph took her into the living room, gently deposited her on the sofa and placed both of his hands on either side of her face.
"Now, tell me, little one. What's happened?" he asked, softly.
Heather began to cry. Her tears fell into some of the scratches on her face, stinging the sensitive flesh. The pain was enough to help her gain some control.
"I know I shouldn't be here, and that your family and Shayla don't want me near you. But there just wasn't anyplace else to go." She tried to continue speaking. But her minimal control left. "Niall...h-hh...he..." she tried to talk.
"My parents
and Shayla are away for a few days. To me, it doesn't matter what they would think of your coming to me. You need help and I'm here for you." He took a deep breath to control his panic over her condition. "Did that son of a bitch try to force himself on you again, lass? If he did, I'll rip his heart out!" Gryph cupped her cheek with one hand.
"You don't understand, Gryph. He's not h-h-human!" Heather stammered as she tried to speak.
"Take a deep breath, Heather, and tell me what he's done." Gryph lowered his voice, trying to calm her.
Heather did as he suggested, pushed her hair away from her face and began. "I was leaving the museum." She stopped, closed her eyes and tried to gain more control.
Gryph waited patiently, searching her face to gauge her injuries.
"I saw this green light. Like the one in the stairwell the night you were hurt."
Gryph gripped her shoulders carefully. "What else did you see, lass?"
"I tried to get out of the parking lot but it...I mean, Niall, blocked my way. Gryph, he literally tore the door off my car. He's insane, and he's turned into this...this thing" her wavering voice drifted away.
"So, it was him. I suspected as much, but I wasn't sure until now. He was the demon I fought in the museum," Gryph said as he massaged Heather's shoulders and pushed loose strands of her ponytail off her face. He searched her features for other injuries. The woman's hands were practically in shreds. Drops of blood stained her shirt and torn jeans.
"He spoke to you?" Gryph asked, trying to sound calm. I'll rip his cowardly spine out!
"Yes," Heather nodded. "He wants the stone we took. And when he finds it's gone, he'll want this one, too." She pulled the second stone from her pocket and gave it to him.
"By all of the...Heather, where did you get this?" Gryph looked at her in amazement.
"I found it in a Peruvian vase by accident."
Gryph continued looking at her in complete wonder. She had managed to retrieve yet another stone and escape a demon. He'd never met anyone like her. She had more courage than any three men he knew. Outsiders were not as weak as he'd been led to believe. Certainly Heather wasn't.
"You can't go back to the museum, and you can't go to your apartment. It's as I've suspected. This man knows where you'll go and won't hesitate coming for you. Especially, since you know what he is." He cursed himself for not trying to get her to leave town. She hadn't been safe since he'd approached her. What she'd been through was his fault, and the guilt almost crushed him.
"Gryph, please...please, tell me what in hell is going on? Who are you? What kind of power do these stones have, and why won't you tell me everything?"
He pulled her into his arms and held her close, stroking her hair. "First, let's clean these wounds before they become infected. The beast didn't make any of these marks on you, did he?"
"No, I had to run into the park to get away from him—it. I got caught in some thorns."
"That's good, because his claws contain a powerful poison. That's what almost killed me. Now, we'll get you taken care of. Then we'll talk about what happened."
His low, deep voice was like a soothing ointment to Heather's shattered nerves. Gryph led her upstairs to his bedroom. "Here, use this robe." He handed her a dark green, terrycloth robe from the closet. "There are fresh towels and a first aid kit in the cupboard. I want you to make sure you clean those wounds well. I'll be back in half an hour. All right?" he questioned as he watched her movements.
Heather nodded. He walked over to her, kissed her gently on her forehead then left. She was already beginning to feel more calm. But she would never be able to rid herself of the monstrous vision she'd seen earlier. How could such a thing exist? What Niall had become defied every known law of physics and nature. Fighting off pain and the shock of what had happened, Heather's intellectual brain began to put pieces of things together. Gryph was trying to stop all this. That was why he was here. Of course, he couldn't go to the police. They'd never have believed anything and, in light of a murder investigation, he might have become a suspect. Exactly who he was didn't matter quite as much, though her curiosity would keep her asking questions. He was doing the right thing, trying to stop anyone else from being hurt. In her book, that made him a hero. No legend she'd ever read about could equal what he'd already done. Men like him were rare and wonderful. She slowly walked into the bathroom, trying to sort her feelings.
She scrubbed herself under a hot shower and washed her hair, then entered the bedroom and was tying the robe when Gryph knocked on the door and joined her. Heather ran to him and he held her. There was no doubt in her mind that was exactly where she belonged. She snuggled into his chest and almost cried with the need to be there.
"Easy, lass. I've made some hot tea. It will help you feel better." He handed her a steaming mug. When she took it, he began to adjust the sleeves of the robe she wore. It was sizes too large, but she looked so adorable in it. So precious. If anything had happened to her...
"Gryph, you once told me those stones held a special power. I thought it was just a legend. Now I know it isn't. We have to find that other rune stone. Niall doesn't need them to change into that devil thing anymore, but he wants to keep the stones so that no one else has the power. He thinks he's killed you. And he admitted killing Ned and the prostitute in the park." She paused and sipped her tea, her hands visibly shaking as she did so. "I feel like I'm in the middle of someone's bad dream."
"It's not a dream, little one. It's real enough. It's to my advantage if he thinks he's killed me. I can use it against him. As for us finding the last stone, you can forget it. You're not leaving this house until I get the damned thing myself. Understand?" He stroked her drying hair, tucked a bit of it behind one ear, and adjusted the belt of the robe to fit her tiny waist.
"You'll never get in the museum without setting off an alarm, and there are thousands of places where the stone could be hidden. What I don't understand is how Niall got his hands on them, how he found out what they were and why he's keeping them at the museum." She walked away from him and started pacing.
"Heather, come here," he gently commanded.
"I've wondered if McPherson was in on this too. Although I can't believe he'd be capable of murder."
"Heather," Gryph calmly spoke louder, trying to her attention again.
"How did Niall invoke this kind of power unless he translated the symbols on the stones? He'd need help to do that. Outside the professor's realm of knowledge, I'm the only one with that kind of expertise and I can assure you I didn't translate any such thing. And what can anyone do about Niall now that he has this ability to change himself into this horrible thing!"
"Heather, stop.” Gryph took her by the arm, walked to the bed, sat down and pulled her into his lap. "You need to calm down. You've been through too much." He paused to put the cup of tea on the night stand and to make sure he had her attention. Then, he waited until she was comfortably within his arms. He searched her face, noted the scratches and saw the trust in her eyes. How he'd love to hold her there forever. Just make the world go away and leave the two of them alone. He sighed, knowing she'd hate him for being a creature, too. Though he wasn't like the one who had just tried to kill her, that lovely look of trust would die and turn to horrifying disgust. His heart felt like marble, even as she felt so soft and inviting. He took a deep breath and tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. To stay calm for her sake.
"First, I suspect that when McPherson took the stones from Ireland, this Niall fellow found out about them from the professor himself. Second, McPherson had probably heard of the stones' legend and allowed them to be translated thinking no harm would come of it. Once translated, I'm told the spell is easy to invoke. Third, I don't think this man wanted to move the stones from the museum because it gives him a quiet, isolated place to practice the powers he's so recently acquired. They become stronger the more they're used. Your friend the security guard probably walked in on something he wasn't meant to see and was slain for it. And
lastly, Niall will have to be destroyed. It's the only way to stop him now."
Heather stared at him as she searched her battered senses for the proper words. "You've been sent to recover the stones and, more importantly, kill Niall. That's was this is all about, isn't it?"
Gryph could only look at her. He neither denied nor confirmed anything. He'd already told her too much. His mission had involved her in his world and had almost cost her life. As it was, he'd never forgive himself for what she'd already been through.
"You can't kill him, Gryph. You've seen what he is. No insult intended, but you and five like you would be no match for him. Besides, even if they don't believe it, we should go to the police. They can deal with this."
"Like you said, they won't believe any of it. So, what would you tell them? Would you say that a man has invoked an ancient Celtic spell from the stolen Rune Stones of the Tuatha De Danann and that he's now walking the streets of New York killing at will? What do you think they'd do?"
Heather listened to his words and realized how impossible it sounded, but she wanted to keep Gryph from being slaughtered like Ned. "If I said it like that, the police would probably lock me away and say I was crazy. But I could tell them only that he attacked me a second time and that he told me he committed the murders. Maybe they'd find him and get a confession out of him. I've already reported him once. They're looking for him now to press assault charges."
"Maybe they would go after him and maybe they'd even find him. But at what cost? He might kill one or more of them by turning into that creature. He would surely escape then disappear someplace, taking the one remaining stone. Then, he'd surface again and hunt you to get back the other two stones so that only he would have their power. I'm trying to keep anyone from knowing about the damned things, Heather. If this man got desperate enough, there's no telling how many people might be exposed to all this. That can't happen. Not ever"