Under the Bridge (21 page)

Jordan thought about that for a moment and
cleared her throat. “You're telling me that you'll all be at the
dining room table as your true selves.”

He smiled at her. “This shape is also a 'true
self'. I'll just look a little different.”

“Right.” She nodded and kept nodding as she
processed his revelation. Griffins and pookas and weres, oh, my!
How did a girl brace for all that?

Griffin suggested she meet the gargoyle clan
first, hoping it would be easiest on her. “You might also want to
ask Rook how his nose is doing. He was the one you hit with the
stick. He'll be the black one, with white hair.”

She winced. “Sorry about that. I was a little
shook up last night.”

“Hm. Well, I won't let him eat you. You
should know he tends to be moody, though.”

As a result of his warning, she was feeling a
little nervous as they approached a gate set in the high shrubbery.
The gate itself was hidden from the house by an oak tree and a
group of flowering bushes. Griffin had to unlock it, too.

“The gate is warded to drive away any guests
we might receive. We don't want visitors to wonder why the statues
change positions from day to day.” He held the door open for
her.

Jordan stepped inside, looked curiously at
the group of five statues within the large garden. Each one rested
on a wide stone pedestal, and no two seemed to be the same. There
were several that she recognized as gargoyles, though none of them
were the squat, ugly monsters she'd been expecting. They were
alien, yes, with hard, sharp angles, like the one with spikes on
his elbows and wingtips. He had claws, and his face was set in a
snarl, but she saw the beauty in his features. There were others
like him, though each was unique.

Jordan hadn't known how the sight of them
caught in stone would affect her. The thought of seeing them wake
should have daunted her more than it did. Stronger was the urge to
see them free.

She gently touched the foot of the gargoyle
closest to her, felt the stone flex under her hand. She gasped and
pulled her hand back. The stone subsided.

Griffin grinned. “It's all right. They're
close to waking. No doubt you startled him.”

She sent him a wide eyed glance and went back
to watching the silent gargoyles. As the sun dipped below the
horizon, stone flexed slowly, moved like a living thing. All around
her, chests expanded, drew in air. Color bloomed over the stone,
turned it to onyx, jade, carnelian, quartz....

Jordan paced backward, the better to view the
change. As stone slowly became flesh, a powerful joy seized her,
and with it, a sense of helpless fear. She didn't know these
beings. She had no cause for joy.
What was happening to
her?

She still felt awkward at dinner. By then she
suspected that part of what she was feeling came from the house
itself. All day it had seemed as if it were whispering to her,
subtle thoughts that just brushed her mind. That was odd enough,
but the reality of sitting across from seven mythical beings was
almost overwhelming.

Griffin sat on her left, as a griffin the
size of a horse. A handsome, gleaming brown with golden beak and
claws, he was rather intimidating in that form. It was difficult to
convince herself that he was also the man she'd spent the day with,
and much of last night.

The gargoyles were able to sit, though Jordan
thought they would have been more comfortable on stools than in
high-backed chairs, for their wings draped uncomfortably behind
them, and none of them seemed to rest their spines against the
upholstery. She speculated that the pressure on their wings was
uncomfortable.

Sage and Samhain stood at the table, though
the stallion's food and water was actually on the floor. Jordan
wasn't terribly shocked when Sage was brought a couple of whole,
raw chickens. He was a giant white owl, after all, easily the
height of a man. It did cause her some consternation when a bowl of
freshly butchered rabbit was placed before Samhain's stallion form,
along with a bucket of strong black coffee. She didn't comment, of
course, but she did pour herself a little more wine. Unfortunately,
her excellent meal was going mostly untouched. She was too tense to
really enjoy it. Though they were on their best behavior, she was
just not used to such extraordinary company.

She studied them carefully, trying to be
subtle. In return they eyed her boldly back as they shoved food
into their maws. There was very little talking. Eating was serious
business.

After a few minutes, Jordan left off picking
at her soup. When she saw Griffin eyeing it, she shoved it his way.
“It's good, but I'm not very hungry.”

He drank it carefully, making the bowl look
dainty as a teacup. “Very nice.” It was odd to hear his voice
coming from a griffin's beak.

She cleared her throat. “Do you often eat
human food when you're a griffin, or is meat better for your
body?”

“I prefer meat, though cheese makes a nice
snack. Bread is pretty tasty, too.”

“But no vegetables,” she said, smiling a
little.

“Definitely not.”

She accepted the next course from a freckle
faced boy. She doubted he was as human as he appeared. Jordan
couldn't imagine too many Victorian citizens would take the sight
of her present company in stride. It wasn't too many years past the
time when a supposed witch would have been burned at the stake. She
assumed the same would happen to gargoyles and such, should they be
caught.

She lowered her eyes to her salmon and
buttery fried parsnips. She noticed the gargoyles were served the
same, and plenty of it. Unlike her, they didn't seem to be as
careful of bones. “Mrs. Y is a good cook,” she said, trying to make
small talk. “You're lucky to have her.”

Rook coughed, amused. “The local farmers are
lucky we have her! Happy for them, not all of us enjoy raw meat.”
Like the others, he didn't bother with tableware, deeming his
fingers utensil enough.

“And the farmers frown on missing sheep,” a
sharp edged gargoyle called Vicious said between bites. He had
black hair, blue skin and wings. Chuckles followed his
statement.

“They wouldn't really steal,” Sage said
calmly. “The estate provides for all of us. As night guardians,
they hardly have to beg for food.”

“I thought you said you were naturally
nocturnal,” Jordan said, looking at Griffin for confirmation. “If
you're both awake at night, who guards the place when you're all
asleep?”

“Unlike them, we can be awake in the
daylight. We need little sleep,” Griffin explained.

The blue gargoyle grinned a sharp white grin.
“It gives him more time to cat around. The ladies like his
company.”

Griffin growled in warning, and Vic lost his
smile. “What?”

The wolf-like one next to him, Howl,
snickered. He had roast beef stuck in his teeth. “Don't mind him.
He's not too sharp.”

“Vic's barely thirty,” the thin purple one
across the table from him spoke up, cutting across the brewing
fight. She thought his name was Lance. “He probably didn't notice
what's happening between you two.”

Jordan stiffened, set down her fork. “I
wasn't aware there was anything happening,” she said with strained
calm. She didn't like to think of the relationship between her and
Griff as public, not when she barely knew what to make of it.

Lance stared at her. Cornered, he shot a
glance at Griffin, and quickly changed the subject. “I'm the best
flier. Howl tracks like a wolf.”

“Better,” Howl shot back. He crammed a whole
boiled potato in his mouth.

Jordan let them change the subject, but her
appetite was completely gone. What was she doing, sitting here like
this? She should be trying to convince the house to take her home.
She didn't belong here. “Excuse me. I don't feel well,” she said.
Avoiding Griffin's eyes, she quickly stood and left the table,
praying he wouldn't follow her. She was quite sure she would start
wigging out if she had to sit still one more minute and pretend
that everything was normal.

Everything was not normal! She was trapped in
a living house, out of her time, and slightly drunk. She stumbled
on her skirt as she was climbing the stairs and upgraded that to
“definitely drunk”.

Since it was either that or climb the walls,
screaming, she thought she'd made the right choice.

She didn't even try to reach her room.
Tonight she rather wanted to be lost. She didn't want Griffin to
find her too soon, not when she felt so confused. She needed time
to think.

That was how she found the balcony. Stumbling
through dark rooms until she found one lit by moonlight, she
followed the white path to a double French door. It swung silently
open to reveal a cozy balcony overlooking the front lawns. A brisk
wind ran at her, perfect for clearing her head.

Jordan closed the doors and leaned on the
rail. As long as no one went for a flight, she'd have her privacy.
She smiled a bitter smile and closed her eyes. Ah! How did things
get so complicated? This had all happened much too fast. Was there
a way to prepare for something like this?

“Take me back,” she told the house, putting
her heart into it. “I’m not a good match for him. You know it, too.
I'm no good for him.”

“
Is he good for you?”

Jordan blinked. The quiet thought hung there,
as if waiting for a response.

She didn't have one. Was Griffin good for
her? Jordan broke it down, simplified it. Was Griffin good? Of
course. Though she hadn't known him long, she felt sure of that.
Was he good for her? She bit her lip and stared over the shadowed
lawns. Though she wrestled with the question for a long time, she
couldn't find an answer.

The chill finally forced her inside. Somehow
she was not surprised to find him waiting there, and in his human
form. At least he was dressed.

He bowed, very formal. “This place can be
confusing. I thought you might have gotten turned around. May I
lead you back?”

She sighed. “I wish someone would.”

They were silent as he escorted her back to
her room. When they had reached the door, he looked down at her
solemnly. “Am I invited tonight?”

Part of her was tempted. She would have loved
to be held. Instead she shook her head. “It's no good, Griff. I'm
not good company tonight.”

He nodded soberly, reached for her chin. He
hesitated just before touching her. When he spoke, there was
unhappiness in his voice. “May I kiss you goodnight?”

His pain made her heart ache. She nodded
softly....

She recognized it for the mistake it was an
hour later, when she'd had time to think. Griffin was a ruthless
seducer. Only now, draped naked over his drowsing form, did she
have time to acknowledge it.

He'd worn her out. She closed her eyes,
promising she'd deal better with him tomorrow....

At first she didn't realize she dreamed. She
was twined with Griffin, but there was another presence in the
room; the shadow man.

He studied the pair critically. “Well, that
was quick! I see my sister has gotten her way again.”

“Naturu,” she whispered, barely able to
speak, to move. She felt as if the air had become a pressure,
holding her down. “G'way.”

“I'm afraid not.” He examined his cane, his
tone off hand. “You realize I don't approve. We'd whittled the
numbers down to seven, my friends and I. I've no interest in seeing
a population explosion.” He looked at her with regret. “I'm afraid
I'm going to have to kill you.” He took a brisk step forward,
raising his cane that now sported a barbed tip. His eyes were
locked on Griffin's chest.

“No!” she shouted as the paralysis abruptly
lifted. She sat up, threw a pillow to deflect his aim. “I won't let
you kill him!”

He took aim again...

To her surprise, Griffin was shaking her,
telling her sharply to wake. Her eyes flew open, and she looked
wildly around. “He tried to kill you!”

Griffin's jaw tensed. He put a calming hand
on her shoulder and looked to the spot where she’d last seen
Naturu. “Come out. I can smell you.”

Naturu's voice came out of the air, bored, as
if he hadn't just tried his hand at murder. “What would be the
point in that? I find it's much easier to kill you this way.”

Griffin smiled grimly. “Brave fae! Noble foe,
to come at your prey in the dark. I heard that you'd become craven
over the years, O hero.”

“One does not require chivalry to slay an
animal.” Naturu's voice had a distinct edge.

Griffin smiled as he baited him. “And in your
sister's house no less. She'll certainly forgive that.”

“What is it you want? Shall I give you a
sporting chance?” Naturu spat. “Very well. Tomorrow at dawn I will
meet you before the house. Winner gets the girl...and any monsters
she might be breeding.” The voice held sinister promise.

They waited in tense silence. Finally Griffin
said, “He's gone.”

“Was he really here?” she whispered, still
shaken. “He was in my dreams....”

He tucked the blanket around her shoulders
and held her close. “He's fae. They do that.” He nuzzled her
temple. “This one won't bother you again, however. I'll take care
of it tomorrow.”

She jerked her head up, nearly clipping his
chin. “What? You're going to fight him? That's what he meant, isn't
it? No! I don't want―”

He shushed her, first with his voice, then
with gently persuasive kisses. “I'll be careful. I promise. All
will be well.”

She tried to argue, but his lips stilled
every argument, until she finally just pushed him back. “Look.
There has to be a better way.”

He took her hand in his, kissed it. Then he
slowly coaxed her to lie against his chest. “Very well. I'll talk
to him tomorrow. We'll sort this out.”

Her breathing slowly began to calm. “You
will? You think he'll listen?”