Trouble with Gargoyles: an Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 3)

by Tricia Owens

  So I used it to my advantage.

  I had Lucky go big. Super monstrous, holy moly big. Bigger than he'd been in Moonlight. His golden scaled body filled the room, forcing the shifters to crouch down beneath tables or smash up against each other at the walls. And he was so bright that no one could keep their eyes open. Everyone either squinted or covered their faces.

  It could have ended like that, with me and Melanie squeezing our way out of there while Lucky held everyone in check.

  But there was always someone, wasn't there? One guy who had to play the hero.

  Or in this case, the villain.

  It turned out to be Kleure.

  He jumped onto my back. I screamed because if you've never had a giant dog with a flaming blue head land on your back—let's just say it's a pretty terrifying experience. The weight of him pulled me backward so together we crashed onto the table, making the drinks there explode into the air around us and soak the rest of my clothing.

  His sharp teeth snapped at the air beside my ear and his breath—talk about dog breath! Kleure smelled like he'd just eaten cat poop. I gagged even as I struggled to draw in air, even awful-smelling air. His furry forelegs had wrapped around my throat and he was on the way to strangling me unconscious if he didn't manage to tear my throat out first, which he was trying to do as well.

  I punched over my shoulder, hitting him square in the muzzle. He let out a yelp, helpfully telling me I was on target. So I did it again, harder. The moment his forelegs loosened I hurled myself forward, breaking his grip. Just in time, too, because his dog shifter buddies dove at the table, their canines just missing my arms and torso.

  I threw a quick glance over the room before me. Melanie had shifted to her monkey form at some point, ditching her steampunk gear which had been kicked to all corners of the club. Her monkey was on the floor, wrestling with a tabby cat and an evil-looking Siamese. Bits of fur filled the air. The screeching and screaming hurt my ears.

  More worrisome was what I saw attempting to squeeze beneath Lucky's coils. It was a Bengal tiger. It was absolutely stunning and it absolutely frightened me because a big predator like that wouldn't go down easily. It would keep attacking until I had no choice but to give Lucky his head. Everything I'd feared happening in Moonlight was going to happen here.

  Running from fate had never felt so futile.

  I fed Lucky a little more energy and simultaneously experienced that unnerving sensation of scales rippling across my skin and the need to cough out embers. Lucky belched a streamer of fire that curled and roiled across the ceiling of the speakeasy. Screams of terror filled the place. Those shifters who'd been pressed to the walls by Lucky's bulk now slid along his body, making their way urgently for the room's single exit. I ordered Lucky to relax his body and allow them to run past and soon, a steady stream of creatures was on their way out.

  I hoped they remembered to shift forms before ordinary people saw them. Come to think of it, they'd all be naked. They'd better be heading to the back alley exit instead!

  But magickal streakers swiftly became the least of my concerns. The tiger was still coming and I faced danger nearer still: jaws closed around my left forearm. I spun, flinging a terrier off me that flew across the room and skittered across tabletops. A pit bull scrambled up on the booth's table, its powerful muscles bunching as it prepared to launch itself at me.

  "Stop them or I'll burn them all!" I shouted at Kleure, who was crouched at the edge of the booth, his claws digging into the black vinyl, his wings arrowed back like swords. The canary on his shoulder flared its wings, trying to look larger.

  "I'm a dragon, Kleure! I don't care how many I kill!"

  Please fear me! I thought at him and the other shifters. I don't want to fight with sorcery. I don't want to lose control!

  My heart was a drum, its beat giving life to Lucky. I could hear the seductive call of my ancient blood, coaxing me to join my ancestors in revealing my true self. In reveling in it. I heard the clicking of tiger claws coming up fast behind me. I watched the pit bull lower its head and coil its muscles.

  "Let us go!" I shouted. My voice cracked as I warned, "I'll end you all! The Oddsmakers won't stop me!"

  But mentioning the Oddsmakers was a mistake.

  "We're not afraid you," Kleure snarled back, flecks of spittle flying from his jaws. "We'll take down the Oddsmakers and you'll fall right alongside them, Anne Moody. You're nothing but a traitor. All traitors deserve to die!"

  I cried out in dismay as he hurled himself out of the booth, followed by the bodies of the other canine shifters. Behind me, something huge and fast rushed up.

  My mouth opened into a roar. I felt my teeth elongate into fangs as pressure and heat built up in my chest. I uncurled my tongue to spray out fire—

  The world flipped. Gravity seemed to reverse, and I went flying into the air as a monster roared…

  ~~~~~

  I'd never been happier to be grabbed by the Oddsmakers. Once I recognized the twisted Sistine Chapel-like images above me, I rolled to my feet. Frightened chattering was my only warning before a little monkey leaped into my arms. I hugged Melanie close as I looked around the spooky, cavernous room.

  The unexplainable black curtains were there as usual, occasionally emitting puffs of black spores or poison or who knew what. The images on the ceiling above were still moving, still tearing each other to pieces in slow motion. What was new was Kleure, who crouched on the concrete floor like a terrified puppy, his head twisting back and forth as he tried to take in the madness of this place.

  "What happened? Wh-Where are we?" Kleure stuttered, his fear making his speech nearly indecipherable. The yellow canary had come with him and it huddled tight against his thick dog neck for protection.

  I opened my mouth to say something snarky but that creepy girl's voice beat me to it.

  "Welcome to the home of your enemy, Kleure of the Wood."

  He startled with a yip, leathery wings fluttering. Even the blue flame halo around his head seemed to dim in his terror as a humanoid shape stepped up behind one of the waving black curtains. I knew there was nothing physical behind the curtain, that it was only a weird illusion, but Kleure acted as I had, assuming that a being actually stood there and was speaking to him.

  "I'm important in the community," he said to the cloth-covered figure. "I'm important to Las Vegas. To the casinos. You can't—"

  "Dare you presume to tell us what we can and cannot do?"

  The maniacally sweet voice made Melanie's small body shiver in my arms and her tail latch tight around my wrist. I covered her protectively.

  "We oversee all beings within this city, Kleure of the Wood. Even those who refuse to be overseen. Even those who resist, and cannot be made to behave."

  I expected Kleure to continue cowering in light of such a statement, but to my amazement he did the opposite. He straightened and tipped his large, triangular head back. He spread his wings. If it were possible, he looked almost regal, like a supernatural dog king. Even the little canary stopped hiding and gave an angry, defiant chirp.

  "There will be others to overthrow you," Kleure snarled. His canines showed wetly and his eyes gleamed dangerously. "You haven't beaten down the denizens of this city. The more you attempt to suppress us, the stronger and more powerful we grow. You have your sheep—" he sent a glare my way that stiffened my spine, "—but you will never rule over all of us. You will never break us."

  It was an admirable resistance, but for as much as I disliked the Oddsmakers, I didn't see the point of it. As Vale had once told me, it was wiser to pick your battles. Here, alone, Kleure couldn't win.

  "You think we are not aware," Kleure went on mysteriously, "but we are aware of what you're planning. You're not nearly half as clever as you think you are. It's only a matter of time before—"

  "Your threats bore and insult us."

  The Oddsmakers didn't sound intimidated at all, yet I was intrigued. What had Kleure meant when he'd said the Oddsmaker
s were planning something?

  I imagined I could hear Vale's voice in my head, warning me to stay out of it. But that only goaded me to pay more attention. No one was about to pat me on the head and tell me to keep quiet or not get involved. Not that Vale would ever dare, but the Oddsmakers might...

  "We have given you every opportunity to fall in line and preserve the good health and well-being of the magickal community in Las Vegas and yet you have consistently defied us. For too long you have stirred the pot of discontent and beat upon the drums in your attempt to incite an uprising."

  A breeze moved through the room, lifting the curtain and revealing only air behind it. The cloth settled once more over the humanoid head and chest, but I could see that Kleure now recognized he wasn't dealing with a person. He realized as I once had that the Oddsmakers were "other" and, as they'd claimed, legion.

  "You cannot be allowed to continue, Kleure of the Wood."

  Goose bumps jumped out across my skin. Melanie, clutching me tight, must have felt my fear for she shuddered violently.

  Kleure, though, stood strong. "You will never silence us. My voice is only one of a chorus of outrage and—"

  "We agree. You will continue to send a message, but not the one you intended."

  Kleure turned to look at me then. His look of calm condemnation said, This is all on you. This is what you support.

  I didn't have time to feel outraged or defensive. The Oddsmakers acted too quickly for that.

  I knew as soon as it began that I would never forget what I saw. Nor would I forget the sounds, both of the physical atrocities that were perpetrated upon Kleure, and of his screaming. I held Melanie's monkey head tight against my belly so she wouldn't see the worst of it, but I forced myself not to look away, not even to blink. The longer it went on, the greater grew my fierce need to witness all of it. So I wouldn't be able to pretend afterward that I hadn't understood what was happening. So I wouldn't be able to look in the mirror and see an innocent.

  Because I wasn't innocent. Not while I stood silently by and did nothing to stop this.

  When it was over and what remained of Kleure lay smoking on the floor of that place, I tried to swallow, but my mouth and throat were as dry as the valley. There was a ringing in my ears, but it was only the vestiges of Kleure's agony and terror.

  Something whimpered. When I looked down and realized I was on the verge of crushing Melanie to death, I immediately unclenched the muscles in my arms. My entire body felt like it had been balled tight to survive a tumble down a cliff.

  "Why did you…do that?" I choked out. I wanted to cry in sheer rage.

  "So they would all learn," the sickly sweet voice replied. "Have you learned?"

  I wanted—needed—to scream, but I didn't. "Why did you do it that way? Why be—" I fought back a shriek, "—monsters?"

  "Because for those who feel the need to fight, only the most dramatic of examples will kill that need."

  It was a warning as much for me as for the sort of shapeshifters who frequented downtown and the Keyhole. I liked to mouth off against the Oddsmakers because it made me feel like I was showing my independence. But Vale had warned me again and again not to push them. I now realized it wasn't because he'd been tortured by them, or at least that wasn't the only reason. He understood what they were capable of. He appreciated how utterly cruel and sadistic they could be.

  Movement near what had been Kleure made me suck in my breath. I watched, heart pounding, as the yellow canary settled on the floor beside the remains. It chirped pitifully, its pain unmistakable. I wanted to scoop the little bird up and protect it just as I tried to protect Melanie. I didn't care that it had once been an associate of Kleure and might have tried to peck my eyes out in a fight. I wanted no more death and suffering tonight.

  "Tell them what happened here, little bird. Spread the information far and wide: the Oddsmakers exist to keep the peace and to keep you safe. To fight us is to fight the well-being of every magickal being in Las Vegas."

  The figure beneath the black cloth turned my way. "Is that understood, Anne Moody?"

  My head throbbed and my vision edged with red. Had Melanie and the canary not been present, I would have burned us all to ash. "I understand perfectly."

  I didn't try to hide my outrage and fury. But nothing was said to me, and when the pain at the back of my head came it was welcome, because it removed me from that place where I would have gladly surrendered my humanity in order to make a point.

  When I opened my eyes again I was in the desert, lying somewhere outside Area 51. It wasn't fully dark; the sky in the east was edging into orange. Sunset was coming. Maybe it would hold back the nightmares.

  "Anne…"

  I sat up time to catch Melanie as she flung herself against me. She was naked, which sucked because we didn't have easy access to clothing out here, but at least she was alive.

  "I wish I hadn't seen that," she whispered, clutching me hard. "That was the worst thing I've ever seen."

  I swallowed down fire. "Me, too."

  "All those times you said they took you there—it never really occurred to me that they would hurt you. Not after the first time. I thought…they must like you." She tilted her tear-streaked face back to look up at me. "But that could have been you."

  "Maybe."

  There was no lying to make her feel better. Not where the Oddsmakers were concerned. They were capricious and evil, and I abandoned any thoughts that what they did for us was a good thing. I wish I'd never learned about Dearborn's necromancy artifact. I wish I hadn't listened to Vale and I wish I'd tried to fight them. I didn't care if they killed me; I was sure I could take a few of them down before they did.

  But that fight would have to come another day, when it was just me and them, with my friends far away.

  I considered what I was wearing. It wasn't much. "Listen, we're going to have to hitchhike back. Are you okay with staying in your monkey form the whole time?"

  She sniffed and nodded. "It'll be easier."

  I got the feeling she meant more than the ease of travel. Maybe her thoughts formed differently when she was a monkey. I didn't know. I didn't ask.

  We both turned at a nearby rustle of movement. It was only the yellow canary, rising up from behind a tumbleweed. It hovered in the air for a few seconds, maybe orienting itself. Maybe trying to find the strength to fly after all that had happened. Then it turned and flew swiftly in the direction where the city must be. Hopefully an eagle wouldn't try to eat it along the way.

  With a monkey literally on my back, I began the trek to the highway. With luck, sunrise would bring an increase in traffic. Otherwise, it was going to be a long, grim day with nothing to do but think thoughts I shouldn't be thinking.

  Chapter 5

  Melanie stayed with me in Moonlight, her fear of teeth in the mattress overruled by her fear of being snatched by the Oddsmakers. Together we listened to the footsteps of the ghost on the roof until we passed out from sheer mental and emotional exhaustion.

  I slept fitfully, my dreams plagued by fire-breathing dragons and mutating dogs. I watched a monkey falling into a pit while I was bound by chains and couldn't grab for it. The chains were held by a gargoyle, but one that didn't look like Vale. It was monstrous. It called me by name. It called me traitor…

  It was Melanie's phone that woke us both. It was her father, asking her to drive the Todos Tortas truck. Though puffy-eyed, I could tell that Melanie was glad for the job. It was something to do, a slice of life that had nothing to do with being magickal or being ruled by the Oddsmakers.

  "Tell Vale," she urged me as I walked her through the front yard. She wore a pair of my shorts and one of my tops. "He's gotta know, Anne!"

  I nodded, but I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to do about Vale, but my indecisiveness wasn't anything that Melanie needed to know about. It'd take her awhile to get over her first encounter with the Oddsmakers as it was.

  As soon as she was gone, I took a shower and
dressed quickly. It was just after noon, so the sun was an angry, blazing god in the sky but I welcomed its burn on my cheeks as I walked across the street. I imagined it was burning away any lingering taint from the Oddsmakers' lair, cleansing me.

  Not a chance.

  I looked around me once or twice as I approached the Greek revival house. If shifters or pixies were watching me I couldn't tell. If I were the Oddsmakers, I'd be watching my every move. If I were one of Kleure's pals, I'd be planning a retaliatory ambush. But in spite of my expectations, I reached the shop unharmed.

  Tomes was a bookstore specializing in the occult. It was well-known throughout the magickal community both for its extensive collection and for providing a safe venue for performing rituals. I wasn't exactly thrilled to have occultists calling up dead guys and other entities directly across the street from me, but compared to a crack house for a neighbor it wasn't so bad. I rang the doorbell with my fingers crossed that no one was inside summoning Norwegian serial killers like the last time.

  When no one answered, I tried the doorbell again, a sense of disquiet building at the base of my spine. Orlaton had to be home. The guy wasn't the partying type or even the go out for Jack in the Box type. Why wasn't he answering?

  When a full two minutes passed, I cautiously tried the door. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. But if I'd been able to steal a car and start it, I could open a locked door. Assuming, that is, it wasn't booby trapped or otherwise protected by magick. Which it probably was. At the very least I was aware that Tomes was protected by wards that repelled dark spirits. Did the wards also deny dragon sorceresses? I was about to find out.

  I called up Lucky as a wisp as thin as a bobby pin and sent him into the keyhole of the lock. Consciously, I told him to open the lock, but I had no idea how that would be achieved just as I'd had no idea how to start a car engine. But Lucky had something of an intelligence, enough for something like this.