Chapter 26 #2
The vans stopped at a beautifully positioned house.
Grand in scale, it cut into the cliff face at its back and was almost regal with its narrow, cathedral windows inlaid with stained glass and intricate designs.
Tall spires rose into the sky amid steep slate roofs.
A wide, stone staircase led to heavy double doors with arched stonework.
From its position high in the hills, the residence overlooked the town, watchful and protective.
“Someone gets a gold star for their craftsmanship,” Jasper murmured, and John had to agree. A master created this residence, and the city besides. Architecture was something of a passion of his, the older the better. He couldn’t wait to get a better look.
The driver exited the van, but no one followed.
Ulric put his hand on the door handle, bending to see out through the windows.
He was watching the other vans. When the drivers of the various vans reached the rear doors, the passenger doors finally opened, and everyone exited in an orderly fashion.
The large gargoyle—Tristan—cut an unhurried path to the right.
Sue took his place opposite. Gargoyles and shifters formed a crisp line.
“I’m being pushed toward the gargoyles,” Ulric said when John got out. “You’re going to go into the middle of our lines with Jessie’s crew. Don’t worry about lining up, they can’t seem to manage it.”
The gargoyles headed off to their lines. Aurora broke away to the back of the shifters. John was confused but kept his movements smooth, the product of many years of hiding any and all weaknesses.
And then the vampire randomly appeared at his side, and he flinched.
“Hello. Joining us?” Edgar asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Come on. Just this way. The water is warm.”
“Now ye’re just tryin’ to be unsettling,” the puca told the vampire, waiting in the chaotic middle of the two crisp lines.
Edgar gave John a strange smile before he scooted into the throngs of people to stand behind a mousy sort of woman with unruly brown hair. The healer, if John wasn’t mistaken, a very useful type of magic that John hadn’t known existed.
He thought about slipping his hands into his pockets but straightened, years of muscle memory coming to the rescue. Shoulders and head high, he proceeded.
Austin walked with Jessie to the front of the procession, subtly submissive by being a step behind.
He was giving her the floor, letting her handle things with her people as she’d let him handle things with John.
Mostly, anyway. She had not liked Austin being in danger.
Austin would probably be the same here, if not incredibly more volatile.
Sue’s stance, like John and Tristan’s, was bold, posturing. Alphas, all. Austin didn’t react to either beta or to John when he glanced back. Clearly, he was comfortable leading alphas, secure in himself, his hierarchy, and his placement at the top.
For some reason, that tickled John. The little Barazza boy was all grown up and he wasn’t any less headstrong. The difference now? He had focus, using his incredible might where he thought it mattered, and not bothering with the rest.
John was suddenly glad he’d chosen this path. If nothing else, it would be interesting seeing how differently this alpha managed his affairs, and whose feathers in the shifter community it ruffled. It would be refreshing to be on the outside looking in. All of this was none of his concern. Finally.
The front doors opened, and four large gargoyles came out, two by two. But while they looked muscular, especially in the shoulders and chest, and were tall, they couldn’t match Tristan.
The gargoyles went to either side of the doorway, stood against the wall, and promptly disappeared. He let out a gush of breath in surprise.
“Yeah,” Fred mumbled, pointing. “Did you know they did that? Magic is crazy, y’all.
It is cray-zy. Thank god I can find my way in a city just fine or I’d worry one of them would lead me somewhere and then just disappear like that basajunk did last night.
Remember me telling you about that? Nightmare. ”
Laughter bubbled up inside John as another gargoyle came through the door dressed in a rumpled navy button down shirt and black slacks. The laughter threatened to break free as he stepped to the side and another gargoyle similarly garbed stepped outside.
He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, tamping down on the guffaws that threatened. This woman was so odd it passed right by ridiculous and went straight into hilarious. He’d never had people like this around him as an alpha, and no one ever really talked to him afterwards.
“Austin Steele,” the less-rumpled gargoyle said .
He seemed younger than the others by about ten years, placing him at about thirty or so.
A wave of dark brown hair fell to his ears and freckles adorned his face.
His eyes crinkled. “Jessie Ironheart. Welcome. It’s good to have you.
I’m Evan Smithenson. You can call me Evan, of course. ”
“Hello, Evan, lovely to meet you,” Jessie said, no real formality. “You can call me Jessie. Thank you for playing host, and I apologize about our lack of attire. We were treated to a basajaunak cook-out last night and slept in the woods. We didn’t have the facilities to look more presentable.”
“Not at all.” Evan waved that away. “You’re busy these days. Your right-hand woman, Patty, has no end of stories about what you’ve been up to.”
In the gargoyle line, Ulric’s wings shivered. John would have to start studying gargoyles to decipher what their various movements meant.
Evan turned to the side and held out his hand to the gargoyle in the rumpled shirt. “You know Gerard, of course.”
Gerard held up his hand in greeting. “Hey! Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Gerard. It’s great to see you again!” Jessie leaned forward a bit to convey her pleasure. “Your visit saved us from having to be late.”
Gerard put out his hands. His demeanor was utterly blasé, like life was a surfboard and he was just waiting for a wave. “I do what I can.”
Evan clasped his hands in front of him, not confident in his position right now. “I have refreshments ready while we get your people situated and then we’ll let you get settled and freshened up. How would that be?”
“Sounds perfect, thanks.” Jessie looked back at the gargoyle they called Mr. Tom. They never seemed to drop the mister from his name. “Can you get everyone sorted out?”
“Of course, miss. Shall I keep the miserable old woman confined to her room, as is proper, or will she be allowed to wander around the town and start trouble as usual?”
John went still, expecting Jessie or Austin to lash out at such flagrant disregard for propriety at a meeting. This gargoyle was embarrassing himself, his position, and whomever he was calling names.
“And ye think ye’d be able to stop me, like?
” the puca said, ending John’s confusion.
Apparently she was the “miserable old woman” Mr. Tom was referring to.
“Sure, these are gargoyles. They like a little color in their lives. Or don’t ye remember because it’s been so long since one of them identified ye as their kind? ”
Tingles of warning worked up John’s spine.
He wanted to rush forward and put a hand on the two, stopping them from continuing.
He didn’t have to be the one to rip them to pieces to prove a point, but he still didn’t want to witness it.
He’d walked away from all that. He didn’t want the memories of what Austin or Jessie would surely now be forced to do.
But even as he contemplated backing up, Aurora caught his eye. She subtly shook her head no, apparently warning him not to flee. Would that make things worse?
“I beg your pardon,” Mr. Tom started, his wings shaking madly. “I’ll have you know—“
“Stop.” Jessie held up her hand, her eyes closed in a pained expression. Austin waited beside her patiently. “Please stop. Mr. Tom, Niamh knows better than to create trouble when she is a guest in another territory, right, Niamh?”
“Of course I do, what’re ye on about?” she responded pompously, and there was more than a little bullshit to those words.
Jessie seemed untroubled by the woman’s continued disrespect for her position. “Great. Mr. Tom, help everyone get settled, if you wouldn’t mind. We’ll be along later. Please iron my nice clothes for this evening if you can.”
“Yes, miss, though you’ve surely forgotten the sort of sport the Irishwoman makes of gargoyles.” Mr. Tom’s wings fluttered again.
Jessie glanced over John’s head at the basajaunak. “Phil, keep things in line, would you?”
“No, problem,” he replied. “I’m very good at squishing fights.”
Jessie held up a finger, and then swung it to Niamh. “No fights. If I hear of a fight, I will blame you two whether it is your fault or not—“
“It’ll be their fault,” Mr. Tom quipped.
“—and you will be flown home. Is that clear? We are guests. Do not rile them up just to see if you can. You deserved that beer glass to the back of the head in Drex’s territory, Niamh. A gargoyle will probably do worse, and I will not heal you here, either.”
“That glass was worth it,” Niamh murmured. “I won a lot of money on that bet. I knew I could get that happy fecker to crack.”
“Maybe you should use it to pay for charm school,” Mr. Tom groused.
Jessie sighed and turned back to the cairn leaders with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Gerard, you remember this crew.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “What’s this about a beer glass to the back of the head? That sounds like a fun outing. I need that story.”
Evan gave her a comforting smile. “If your team is able to rile up my gargoyles, the gargoyles will get what they deserve.”
“No, please.” Jessie put up her hand in a stop motion. “Don’t encourage them. Seriously.”
Evan welcomed Jessie and Austin into the house, followed by Gerard.
Sue and Tristan stepped forward immediately, each leader seemingly getting two pack members—or whatever—to watch their backs.
The doors closed, and then another gargoyle materialized that John had not previously noticed.
He hadn’t been a threat, but John would need to watch himself in this place of stone, where an enemy could hide in plain sight.
“Do not embarrass the miss,” Mr. Tom told Niamh. “I know what you’re planning.”
“Do ya me arse,” she responded. They bickered at each other like they’d been doing it for years. “Ye don’t know yer head from yer foot.”
“I will help you get situated,” the resident gargoyle said as the ranks of shifters and gargoyles broke.
Aurora threaded through everyone to him.
“Alph—John. Sorry. That’ll take some getting used to.
I thought maybe you’d want to hear about the trouble in the shifter world right now, the attack on my dad’s pack, and maybe how Jessie tends to run things.
I forgot how structured you had to be in your time. This must be quite a shock.”
Structured. A nice way of saying brutal, culling trouble at a moment’s notice so that it didn’t grow and take him down. The early years had been nothing but, and in the later years he had to keep up pretenses or else people would think he’d gone soft and push harder.
He shook his head at the closed door. “Does that sort of thing happen all the time?”
Her eyes glittered with humor, but she didn’t let it reach her expression. “You have no idea.”
“And the alphas don’t react at all? I realize most packs don’t have to adhere to the level of structure I had to, but I’ve never heard of a pack so…” He shook his head, at a loss for words.
“Alpha Steele runs his people one way, and Jessie… Well, if you’re willing, let’s go get a coffee somewhere and I can explain.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his mind whirling. He was prepared for different, given all the creatures in this convocation, but not this different.
“Let’s go to wherever that puca goes,” he finally said. “I want to see if she starts a fight.”