When a Gargoyle Lives (Gargoyles Book 2) (16 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Agent Melissa Sanchez sighed.  She was going to die under a pile of paperwork

Agents Mulder and Scully never had this problem.  It was non-stop excitement week after week for them.  But no, rather than unusual and interesting cases, the special division of the Portland FBI seemed to deal solely with interviewing crazies who claimed to have seen UFOs or Bigfoot – of which there seemed to be a neverending supply.  Some were on drugs, some couldn’t tell a helicopter from a UFO, and others used a UFO sighting to liven up their boring lives.  And she had to file a report for every single crackpot who came forward.

She wasn’t really a cynic, but then she wasn’t really a believer.  She was literally the only person willing to work in her department, so she had to be both Mulder and Scully rolled into one.

Melissa leaned over her desk, peering at a photo of what was supposed to be Bigfoot.  Odd how he was always blurry in all his pictures.  Must be some kind of conspiracy involving camera manufacturers.   This photo looked more like a guy in a fur coat.  Which was much more likely.

Her phone rang.  “Sanchez,” she muttered into the receiver, squinting at the photo.

“Melissa?”

She sat up, banging her head on her file cabinet.  Her office really was tiny.

“Chris?  How are you?”

She smiled automatically.  Chris had that effect on women.  They had briefly dated but remained good friends.  She imagined he managed to stay friends with all his exes.  No woman could stay mad at him for long.  Melissa didn’t usually go gaga over men, but Chris was a dreamboat inside and out.

“I’m sorry just to call you up like this, but I need a favor.”

“Oh?”  She didn’t let that diminish her excitement.

“Yeah, and I’m kind of in a rush – I’m sorry to put you on the spot.”

“You know I’m going to say yes.”  She was such a pushover for a cute butt and a sexy voice.  “But next time you’re in Portland, you owe me dinner.”

She bit her lip waiting for his response.  They had broken up because of work commitments, but now that she found her biological clock booming at her, and her career stagnating, she was starting to think maybe that had been a mistake.  While Chris had been married in the intervening years, she had remained painfully single.  Of course, given the way Chris had lost his wife, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

He chuckled.  “Sure. We can catch up as friends.”

“Yep, friends.”  She sighed, but couldn’t feel too annoyed.  Chris was devastated after his wife died and last she heard he was still mourning her.  She had to admire that kind of devotion.

“So what’s the favor?”

*

“We need to get out of here,” rumbled Ric.  “How can you have been born here?”

“The normal way I guess.”

“But your parents, how were they even alive?”

Twenty-Six was becoming increasingly irritated by his questions and her tail started swishing back and forth.  “I don’t remember them; I’ve just always been here.  For all I know I was just a test tube baby.  Dr. Adler ain’t exactly the fuzzy sharing type.”

“Do you even know anything about gargoyles?  About who we really are?”

“I know what I am,” she said pointedly.  “I don’t care who you are.  An hour ago I was told I had a new playmate, so here we are on our very first play date.”

“You know nothing of gargoyle history.”

She sighed.  “Who gives a crap?  Why would I care about history?  If I’m good, they bring me magazines to read.  If I don’t rile the guards, I get a chocolate bar and a pat on the head like a good little gargoyle.  And yay, on Tuesdays I get tacos.”

“You should not be so blasé on this subject.  You are a prisoner.”

“And now so are you.”

“You should be fighting to get away from them.  You are a warrior; you should not submit to these people.”

“Submit?” she hissed.  “You think I always just roll over for them?  You stay here as long as I have, you go through what I’ve been through and then you tell me how easy it is to hold out.  Now, do you wanna mate or not?”

“What?”  He’d been propositioned by females before, but this was the first time that he was shocked by it.

“Do you want to have sex?  That’s what they want.”  She waved at the mirror.

“Hell, no.”  There was only one female for him, and she wasn’t the unpleasant creature scowling at him.

She didn’t appear bothered in the least by his rejection.  “Suit yourself, they’d prefer we mate, but they can get what they want by other methods.”

He let a few visions of that float his way and reflexively covered his man parts.  “We need to get out of here.”

“Good luck with that, I’ve been trying for years, and it’s probably not a good idea to announce your plan to escape while they’re watching your every move.”

“Yes, well, maybe tonight’s our lucky night.”

“Doesn’t seem like yours has been very lucky so far.”

*

Chris snapped his phone shut.  “MLF Security is owned by Howard Blackthorne.”

Kylie wrinkled her nose.  “That rich guy who owns half of Portland?”

“What does that tell us?” snapped Brenda.  “How does that get us any closer to finding Ric?”

“Well, apparently the FBI has Blackthorne under surveillance, they think he’s laundering money, but he doesn’t seem to do anything suspicious.  The security business looks legit to them – they provide bodyguards to famous people.  Sanchez doesn’t know why any of his people would be here, though.”

“MLF?” murmured Luc.  “Morgan Le Fay.”

Kylie frowned.  “It could stand for anything.”

“It means Morgan Le Fay,” snarled Luc.  “He is a descendant of our enemies.  The family Blackthorne.”

The other gargoyles added their own snarls.

“Maybe we should talk to him before we jump to any conclusions,” said Kylie.

Chris shook his head.  “According to Sanchez, he’s currently in New York – can you fly that fast?”

“No,” growled Luc.

“And I doubt he’ll submit to a shakedown over the phone.  But there is someone else we can ask.  Look familiar?”

Chris held up his phone displaying an arrest photo of Chloe.

“Sanchez found her; she has a record.  Beat up her boyfriend, tried to cut his throat with a glass bottle.”

“Shocker,” muttered Brenda.

“She has an apartment in Portland.  I’ll go talk to her.”

“No, I will,” declared Luc.

Chris paused.  “It’s better if I approach her, but… there’s always room for a Plan B.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chloe entered Ric’s cell carrying a tray of what appeared to be brown mush

She grinned.  “Din dins!”

Ric lumbered off his slab, wincing slightly.  Definitely at his injuries.  It wasn’t because the slab was cold and uncomfortable and he was becoming accustomed to the softness and luxury of human furnishings.  No, he could care less about that.  The couch at home was not the most heavenly thing on earth after Brenda’s kisses.

“Good boy!”

He kept his face suitably blank as Chloe tried to bait him.  He didn’t like it, but he didn’t react.  She wasn’t worth it.  He was thoroughly surprised at his actual calmness at her betrayal.  The old Amalric would have gone berserk.  Sure, he was annoyed, but her actual actions didn’t hurt him.  But then he was preoccupied - he worried for Brenda, missing Brenda, wishing he was with Brenda – he had a one-track mind at that moment.  Not to mention some of his other organs that were also focused on Brenda.

Besides, he had more important things to do.

Ric gave her a dead-eyed stare and her cheek twitched.

“Still the strong, silent type?”

He shrugged.

“Not for long.  Once Dr. Adler starts his tests, we won’t be able to stop you from screaming.”  She took a step towards him.  “I can’t wait.”

His disinterest was starting to infuriate her.  He’d noticed the flashes of anger before when they met, and she pretended to be his friend.  He’d thought nothing of it.  Other than them, she had been sweet – all an act no doubt.  But short fuses were nothing; they were a way of life for most gargoyles.  Of course, now he realized just how much she hated him, how hard it was for her to maintain her temper around him.  The thought should have saddened him, but it didn’t.  He truly did not care.  She was the epitome of everything that was wrong with humans.  While Brenda was the epitome of everything that was right.

“Hungry?” she asked, tipping the food onto the floor with a cackle.

Still, he did not reply, and her face tightened.

“Those tasers give you brain damage?  Answer me you fucker!”

He started turning away from her, and she made the mistake of stepping towards him, into his circle of movement.  Quick as a flash, he had her in a choke hold.  She scrabbled and clawed at his arm as security guards, and Adler swarmed into the room.  They trained tasers on him, but if they shot him, he could easily snap her neck.

“Let me go!” he bellowed.

The security guards quavered.  Adler seemed mildly irked at best.

“We cannot do that.”

“I will break her neck if you do not let me go,” Ric warned.

Adler looked at Chloe and then smiled coldly.  “If you must.”

“What?” croaked Chloe.

Adler sighed and nodded at the security guards to put their tasers down.  Immediately, they did.

“Chloe, if you were foolish enough to get caught by him, you deserve all you get.”

“But… my… aunt…” she ground out, squirming against Ric.

“You think too highly of yourself.  You are replaceable.  Amalric is not, and he has already sustained enough injuries tonight courtesy of your ham-fisted colleagues.  So, Amalric, either kill her or let her go, either way, suits me.”

Ric gave him a look of disgust before loosening his grip.  Chloe slithered away from him, clutching at her throat, staring daggers at the two of them.  It was hard to say who she hated more at that moment, although Ric guessed it was Adler.

Adler nodded.  “Not quite as ruthless as I thought.  I would have killed her.  Chloe, I think you’re done for the evening – go home.”  He toed the brown mush on the floor.  “I apologize for her behavior.  I’ll have some more food brought in.  Real food this time.”

Ric watched as they all filed out, one of them casting resentful glances around her.  He waited until the door locked and turned away from the mirror, inspecting the necklace he had taken from around Chloe’s neck.  It was certainly sturdy enough for a lock pick.  This would do nicely.

*

Chloe slammed her door shut.  The nerve of that fucking old prick!  How dare he treat her that way?  The fucking monster could easily have killed her, and he was just going to let it happen.  When her aunt heard about this…

She froze as a cool breeze hit her.  The balcony doors were open, the curtains billowing around them.  She had not left them open.

A small thump sounded behind her, and she ducked.  A body came at her from the left, and she heaved with all her might, tackling him to the ground.  He went down with an oomph, destroying her coffee table.

Holy fuck.  It was the chief of police from Devil’s Hang.  The patter of feet sounded behind her, and Chloe lashed out, sending a small, female across the room, knocking over a lamp and landing sprawled over a footstool.

“That’s enough,” panted the chief, training a gun on Chloe.  She glared at him but slowly did not move.  “Kylie?”

“Ugh, I’m fine.”

“Where is Amalric?” he asked.

Chloe snorted.  “Like I’m telling you.”

Kylie brushed herself down.  Her hair was a little disheveled and her cheeks a little red, but she was generally unharmed.  “Let me try.”  She chanted a few Latin words and looked at Chloe expectantly.

“I’m immune to your magic, bitch,” sneered Chloe.  “Greater magic practitioners than you have made me immune.  Although you do seem to have an impressive amount of magic… for such an klutzy amateur.”

Kylie harrumphed and crossed your arms.  “Shame they didn’t do something about making your apartment immune.”  She kicked over a lamp that had previously survived the tussle.

“There’s nothing you can say that will make me talk, and I doubt either of you have it in you to really torture me.”

“No,” agreed Chris.  “Oh well, plan B it is.”

Luc dropped onto the balcony with a huge thump.  He folded his wings around him and strode into the room.  “Kylie?” he growled lowly, his eyes roving her body, looking for damage.

“I’m fine; luckily my hair cushioned the blow.”

He grunted and trained his stare on Chloe.

“Lucifer I presume.”

“Where is he?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“You are lying.”

Chloe shrugged.  “What are you going to do about it?  Amalric had the chance to kill me, and he didn’t.  Gargoyles are just as moralistic as these two fuckwits.”

Kylie opened her mouth to object, and Luc quieted her with a look.

Luc slowly unfolded his wings, stretching them.  His huge frame suddenly seemed enormous, and Chloe’s smug expression flickered.

“No, we are not.  We kill to survive and protect.  And when we do, we do not feel guilt for what we have done.  We rest easy in the knowledge that we did what we had to.”

“If you hurt me, you will never find him.”

“That is an unacceptable risk.”

“Wait, what?” cried Kylie.  “But Ric…”

“Hush, little one,” boomed Luc.  “You know of my kind; you are therefore a risk to my clan.  If I must sacrifice Amalric, then so be it.”

“But…” whimpered Kylie.

“Hush.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Chloe, although she did not seem so certain of herself.

“Will you tell me of his location?”

She glared at him defiantly.

“Then you are of no use.”  He looked at Chris.  “Take her out of here,” he growled nodding at Kylie.

“No, wait, Luc, you can’t be serious,” whispered an increasingly alarmed Kylie.

“Hold on a second,” said Chloe.

Chris looked at him for a few moments before grasping Kylie’s arm.

“No, don’t, stop!”  She tried to wriggle away from him.

“Just wait a…” started Chloe.

Luc drew himself up to his full, menacing height.  “It is necessary.”

“No, Luc, please don’t!” babbled Kylie.

“Hold on!” yelled Chloe.  She had no love for these creatures, but what exactly did she owe Adler? Thanks to him she was barely lucky to be even alive.  Perhaps he deserved a visit from them.  See how he liked being in the grip of monsters.  She looked at them fiercely.  “How do I know you won’t kill me after I tell you?”

Luc folded his arms.  “You do not know.  Not telling me means certain death.  But as to your fate if you choose the other option – I have not decided.”

She looked down, disgustedly.  “Like I owe him anything,” she muttered.  “He’s at a lab.  The Council agreed to let Adler have him for testing.”

“Council?”

“Yeah, the ancestors of the Noir Clans – reckon they can walk on water, and their farts don’t smell.  My aunt’s one of them.  They’ve been trying to bring your kind back for years.”

“Where is it?”