Night Angel (Gargoyle Night Guardians Book 2)

by Rosalie Redd

  Marco nodded. “It was a good battle, I’ll give you that, but I doubt he’s dead. Those bastards are incredibly hard to kill.”

  With a lift of an eyebrow, Zain stroked the stubble on his chin. “Difficult maybe, but the guy rubbed at his spark stone. If you damaged it, he won’t live long.”

  Marco crossed his arms. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  “Feck. Just give it ta me.”

  A familiar voice echoed over the noisy chaos, drawing Marco’s attention.

  Two aisles away, Finn sat on the edge of a medical bed. Blood stained his red shirt a darker shade of crimson. He snagged a flask from one of the medics and brought the glass to his lips. As he drank, the dark liquid disappeared from the glass with each swallow.

  Where was Hannah? The pulse at Marco’s temple beat double time. “Finn!”

  Finn met his gaze. His lips thinned.

  The female medic attending Finn glanced at Marco, grabbed the empty bottle from Finn, and fled down the aisle, her long, red hair swinging against her back. At least someone here had a healthy respect for authority.

  Marco leapt over a cot holding an injured fae. He landed on the stone floor next to Finn, his overcoat billowing around his knees.

  The irritating fae slid off the bed. At over six feet, he stood eye to eye with Marco.

  Marco grasped Finn’s shirt collar, the material bunching in his fist. “Where is my little tribute?”

  “Do ya really want ta have this chat, here, in the middle of the infirmary?” Finn raised an eyebrow.

  Marco tightened his grip, but Finn only smiled.

  Zain placed his hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Maybe we should find someplace a bit quieter.”

  Anger and resentment bubbled over, and Marco shoved Finn, hard. He crashed into the bed. Metal groaned as it bent under Finn’s weight, and then the bed frame collapsed into a heap.

  Finn shook his head and rose to his feet. A yellow glow rimmed both of Finn’s eyes. “I’m not yer enemy, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

  “You’re alive because I allow it.” Marco gripped his cane. Touching the smooth handle calmed his nerves and prevented him from killing the idiot on the spot. “Transport to my quarters. We’ll discuss the details there.”

  Curling his lip, Finn disappeared in a swirl of dust.

  Marco turned to Zain. Although he still didn’t trust the bastard, the guy had a keen eye. “Join us. I want your assessment of him.”

  Zain smirked. “My pleasure.”

  Marco settled his cane in the crook of his elbow and returned to his quarters.

  As he reformed in his room, the smell of burning cloth and dried blood assailed his senses. A fire roared in the fireplace. Flames licked greedily at Finn’s shirt.

  Finn paced to the tall standalone mirror then returned to the fireplace. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and the muscles in his bicep flexed tight. As a gargoyle, Finn had been a challenging warrior, but as a fae, he was formidable. Marco would hate to lose such an asset.

  A small swirl of dust rose next to Marco’s unmade bed. Zain joined them a moment later.

  Marco strode to Ralph and rested his cane on the skeleton’s outstretched arm. “So, Finn, you failed. That’s twice now. Tell me what happened and this better be good.”

  Zain paced to the fireplace, leaned against the brick, and crossed his arms. His focused attention never wavered from Finn.

  “I got past the wards, as I told ya I would. Had the lass in my hands, but then Seth appeared.” Finn curled his hand into a fist. “We fought. He threw his dagger at me, pierced my heart, but not before I spit acid on him. Injured as I was, I had ta leave. He’d a finished the job, so I came ta the infirmary.”

  Marco studied Finn, noting the twitch of every muscle in his features. As much as he wanted to believe Finn lied, he sensed the truth in his words. He tapped his finger along his jaw. “Time is of the essence as you well know. Why didn’t you return?”

  The annoying fae furrowed his brow and raised his palms. “Did ya not see the number of injured in the infirmary? I laid on that bed, bleeding for hours before they got ta me. There wasn’t time.”

  Marco glanced at Zain, and the fae shrugged and tilted his head.

  Finn straightened his shoulders. “I sprayed Seth with acid, got his back real good. He’ll die if he’s not treated. I’ll get Hannah tonight. That’s a promise.”

  “Your weak promises don’t hold much weight with me. So, Hannah was alive when you saw her last.” Marco tapped his finger against his bottom lip.

  “Very much so.” Finn placed his hands on his hips. “Why are ya askin’?”

  “My connection to Hannah severed while I battled a gargoyle. The break ripped through me with such intensity…” Marco clamped his jaw closed so hard his teeth rattled. “Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing I injured the guy, or he’d have killed me. What I can’t determine, though, is what happened to Hannah.”

  Finn cleared his throat. “I think I might know.”

  Marco’s gaze riveted on the Irish fae. “Tell me.”

  The male glanced into the fire. His jaw tightened. “Seth has had a hankering for Hannah since the night he met her. The way that lass looked at him, it’s possible she gave her virginity to him, and as well as I know Seth, he was more than happy to accept it. He’s the reason I haven’t been able ta capture her.”

  “If that’s true...” The muscles in Marco’s shoulders tensed. He raced to the fireplace, opened his hiding spot, and drew out the small flask. With trembling fingers, he uncorked the bottle. No essence escaped.

  His mouth dried.

  He tipped the bottle upside down.

  Empty.

  “Hannah’s essence is gone. That damned gargoyle stole her virginity, and I no longer have a tribute for Gwawl.” His hand shaking, Marco set the vial on his dresser with a gentleness that covered his barely concealed rage. He paced to the mirror and back again, the ramifications flitting through his mind at lightning speed.

  As he passed Ralph, his anger erupted, and he shoved the skeleton into the stone wall.

  Bones splintered and scattered across the floor.

  His cane slid underneath the bed, as if it feared his wrath.

  “Gwawl has an old-fashioned penchant for virgins and thinks their purity and innocence are tied to their virginity.” Disgust tasted bitter on Marco’s tongue. He disagreed with the god and believed goodness and virtue were aspects of the soul.

  Based on the amount of energy he’d pulled from Hannah, she seemed to have those in spades. Even if Gwawl would no longer desire her, Marco wanted to capture the power of her decency and grace for himself.

  In order to do so, though, he’d have to take her energy just like any other human and needed to be close enough to see the whites in her eyes before he killed her.

  That, however, didn’t change his need for a tribute. Pleasing his god remained his number one priority.

  “What do you want to do, boss?” Zain, still leaning against the fireplace as if he didn’t have a care in the world, tugged at the diamond stud in his left ear.

  Marco chose to keep his change of plans with Hannah a secret. After all, trust was still an issue between these fae, and he wanted Hannah’s death for himself.

  He raised his chin. “We come up with an alternative, something that will please Gwawl as much or more than that worthless woman.”

  “Aye, I have an idea.” Finn’s eyes sparked.

  Marco pursed his lips. “Let’s hear it.”

  “From what I’ve heard, Gwawl likes ta torture gargoyles. It’s another way for him ta jab at Rhiannon. How about we give him one?”

  Marco tsked. “Are you out of your mind? Gargoyles are hard enough to kill, much less capture. No fae has accomplished that in nearly a decade.”

  Finn kicked Ralph’s femur out of the way and strode to the mirror. Through the glass, he pegged Marco with a stare. “Proves my point. What a valuable prize that wou
ld be, now, wouldn’t it?”

  Marco studied the guy. He was right. To capture a gargoyle would be an accomplishment like no other. Gwawl would be impressed and the reward generous. The risk, however, was great. Marco stewed for a moment, considering his options.

  There wasn’t another one available to him, not on such short notice. He ripped off his overcoat and flung it onto the bed. “I assume you’re referring to your old friend, Seth. How, pray tell, do you intend we capture him?”

  “Wait…” Marco raised his hand. “Clever, clever. Since Seth took Hannah’s virginity, he might have a sense of duty to protect her more than other women. Besides, as a gargoyle, it’s his job to save humans from the likes of us.”

  Finn placed his index finger on his nose. “Bingo.”

  Perfect. Absolutely perfect. A zip of excitement rippled along Marco’s nerves. Like the old saying “kill two birds with one stone,” Marco would do exactly that.

  Zain ran his hand along his braid then flipped it over his shoulder. “Seth’s one of the strongest gargoyles I’ve ever seen. How do you plan to capture him, boss?”

  Marco tapped his finger against his chin and glanced at Finn. “You knew him well, didn’t you?”

  “Aye, I knew him better than anyone.” Finn smiled, a devilish fae grin that sent a shiver along Marco’s arms and reminded him Finn had been a deadly gargoyle, too.

  Marco returned the smile, flashing his fangs. “I’m all ears.”

  “Seth’s wife died from an illness she contracted after a man robbed her. Seth blames himself for not savin’ her. We capture Hannah, Seth will come runnin’. Knowin’ him as I do, he’d sacrifice himself ta set her free.”

  Marco crossed the room, a sense of giddiness lightening his step, and he sat in his large armchair next to the fireplace. The wood creaked under his weight. As he stared into the flames, his mind raced, and he formed a plan.

  “I’ll obtain one of the crystal-lined crates Gwawl uses to keep his pet gargoyles. Seems they can’t dematerialize through the crystals’ powerful magic. The box won’t fit in my private chamber in the church, so Zain and I will transport it to the nave. Sunset is at seven, so we’ll be ready by eight.” He stared at Finn. “Bring the bait to that location, tonight. Do. Not. Fail. Me.”

  With a solemn nod, Finn straightened his shoulders. “I’ll get Hannah this evening.”

  “You better, or it’ll be the last night for all of us.” Marco waved his hand in the air, dismissing his minion.

  Finn’s mouth thinned before he disappeared in a swirl of dust and debris.

  Marco stroked his chin and glanced at Zain. “Impression?”

  The fae pushed away from the fireplace. His braid swayed from the movement. “He’s either lying or holding something back.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  Zain shrugged. “Seth was his best friend, and Finn’s been a fae only a few nights. How do we know he won’t turn on us?”

  A large crackle burst from the fire, and Marco returned his attention to the flames. “Perhaps you’re right. At nightfall, help me secure the cage then tail him. If he fails in his attempt to capture Hannah, kill him, and bring me the girl. We need her as bait.” …and for me to suck her energy dry.

  A sly smile bloomed on Zain’s face. His broken tooth gleamed in the firelight’s glow. “My absolute pleasure.”

  “Now, go. Enjoy the rest of the day doing whatever it is you do.” Marco waved him away.

  In the midst of a small whirlwind, Zain disappeared.

  Marco rose from his seat and strode to the mirror. He glanced at his reflection, noting how the tips of his short blond hair caressed his cheek and accentuated his brown eyes. “I figured you’d say that, Zain. I would, too, if I were a spy.”

  Deceit was harder to conceal than most people realized. Marco knew that from experience. The problem was who to believe? Zain or Finn? Both? Neither?

  Marco grabbed the bottle from his dresser that had contained Hannah’s essence and heaved it into the fireplace. The glass shattered. Flames erupted, but quickly died.

  He rubbed his palm over his face. Best to assume both fae lied. One of them had to be Gwawl’s spy, sent to trip him up. He was sure of it. One way or another, though, he’d obtain a tribute for Gwawl. As for the young woman, well, she’d end up dead and that was a pity.

  CHAPTER 20

  Hannah adjusted herself in the chair next to her easel and stroked the charcoal over the page. The rhythmic scratch of graphite on paper echoed around the room, calming her nerves. After Drake had seized Seth and disappeared to their stone gargoyles, the beautiful sunrise had crested over the neighbor’s roof and unleashed a gusher of tears from deep inside her. She’d cried until the hitching sobs had stopped, and her tears had left dried streaks down her cheeks.

  The tears threatened once again, and she blinked several times to keep them at bay, but guilt sat hard and heavy on her shoulders, and a few slipped over her lashes. Pencil still clasped between her fingers, she wiped away the moisture with the back of her hand.

  “You’ve earned yourself a week of reflection at your post.” Drake’s harsh words echoed in Hannah’s mind.

  Seth had received the punishment because he’d been protecting her. She understood just how difficult it would be for him to remain there, unable to see and reminded of the dark, enclosing mine he’d been trapped in as a child.

  Damn it. She hung her head and ran her fingers along her nape. She’d paced the house most of the morning, frustration running rampant through her veins. Countless times she’d ended up in the bathroom, holding the mirror in her hand, studying Marco’s mark behind her ear. Each time the mark had faded a bit more until the circular outline was no longer visible. Losing her virginity to Seth had done the trick after all.

  Her attention drew to the picture of Seth she’d set against the wall. She’d captured the subtle curve of his lips as he started to smile and the affectionate glint in his eyes that appeared every time he looked at her.

  How was Seth? Was he all right knowing he’d have to remain in his stone form after dark?

  An ache built in her chest, and Hannah rubbed the sore spot. There was no way they could be together. Seth was a gargoyle. She was a human. He fought fae at night and slept in his post during the day. She was a nineteen-year-old college student. Where could this possibly go?

  Even if they did see each other on his occasional day off, what would happen when she grew old and he remained young? She didn’t want him to stick around to see her wrinkles and gray hair. People would think he was her son or, even worse, her grandson. There was no future for them.

  But Sadie and Beaumont are together…

  Hope, thin and fragile, clung to her heart, holding on for dear life.

  Beaumont had passed his test, though, her rational brain countered. Yeah, and he’d fought in Rhiannon’s army for over eight hundred years. Who knew when Seth would face his challenge?

  “Stop, stop, stop!” Hannah closed her eyes and exhaled.

  She’d beaten herself up many times over the situation with Seth. Her biggest regret was she’d ended up causing him pain.

  Hoping the brush of her pencils would bring her peace, she’d sought out the sketch of Beaumont and Sadie, intent on finishing it before they returned from their honeymoon.

  Fingers sore and tight from hours of sketching, Hannah flexed her hand and glanced through the window. Visible between the oak’s branches, bright, fluffy white clouds filled the sky. Based on the angle of the tree’s shadows along the grass, the sun hung well past midday.

  Sadie and Beaumont will be home in three days. Time to finish this.

  Hannah tapped the pencil’s tip against her bottom lip and studied the black and white sketch. Shading within the roses along the border framed the happy couple, and fine, detailed lines brought out the love in Beaumont’s smile along with the joy in Sadie’s eyes. Yet, something wasn’t quite right.

  Hannah crinkled her brow. What was missing
?

  Outside the window, the leaves rustled in the soft breeze. From between the foliage, sunlight played along the windowsill and onto the drawing, accentuating the ends of Sadie’s hair.

  Hannah’s chest swelled on an intake of breath. “Yes, yes, perfect!”

  Pink accents on the tips of Sadie’s hair would add the finishing touches to the picture. Excitement rushing through her veins, Hannah pawed through her assortment of charcoals and colored pencils. Her fingers grazed over the new pack of General’s Seth had given her and heaviness settled inside, but she kept up her search.

  “All the colors of the rainbow, except the one I need.” Hannah huffed.

  She peered through the window once again. Carried in the breeze, the tree’s shadows danced over the grass like small fairies out to play. If she hurried, she had time to run to the bookstore, buy more pencils, and return home before dark.

  “You shouldn’t be out here at night, especially alone.” Seth’s words from the other night after he’d rescued her outside the library whispered through her mind.

  She glanced at his picture. He seemed to watch her.

  A knot formed in her stomach.

  She placed her hands on her hips, stared at his drawing, and spoke to him as if he stood in front of her. “I don’t have a headache. The mark on my neck is gone. I’m fine. Marco’s hold over me is broken.” …along with my heart.

  Heaviness threatened to crush Hannah’s shoulders, but she brushed it away and raised her chin. “Sadie and Beaumont deserve the best picture I can sketch, and Sadie must, absolutely, have pink in her hair. Besides, I’ll return well before the sun goes down.”

  Hannah rose from her chair, and the legs squeaked against the polished wood floor. After a final glance at Seth’s picture, she raced down the hall, grabbed her light jacket, and bolted out the door.

  Trapped in his daytime gargoyle post, Seth peered across the library’s rooftop. The sun’s warm rays radiated across the sky in a brilliant display. Night would come, but not soon enough.