Chapter Fifteen #2
“It’s a shame we couldn’t do that with the castle, but then the point of those renovations is so that everyone can see it in its refurbished state, so I guess we have to do it the old-fashioned way. But your magic is something else.”
“You’ve got to admit it’s useful.” Damon was pleased. He was usually the one who went visiting his packmates, especially when he was racing cars, so having a few of them come to him was a real treat.
“Very useful.” Redford turned, pulling Damon close. “Now you have room for your pack.”
“I really didn’t want us to be sharing our room with other people,” Damon chuckled. “Especially if one of them is a baby. And it’s our pack, remember. You’re one of us now. Now, how do you feel about going shopping, because we’re going to need food.”
“Or you could zap that too, and we could take a nap?” Redford was really getting into taking time off, and Damon loved it.
/~/~/~/~/
The phone call came that evening while Damon and Redford were reviewing Malcolm’s latest progress reports on the main castle restoration.
“Mr. Damon?” The voice was female, with a strong local accent.
“Just Damon is fine, speaking.”
“My name’s Moira Campbell. I got your number from the management company that handles your lease on the Duncarrick cottage. I…er…I realize you don’t know me, but I wanted to ask a hypothetical question, and please feel free to just say no, if you’re not sure what I’m talking about.”
Damon glanced at Redford who was clearly listening in. “Ask away, Ms. Campbell.”
“My friends and I had been keeping an eye on Duncarrick Castle for a while, and heard that the new owner had returned recently with a view to renovating it, is that right?”
“That’s right. Redford Stone is the owner,” Damon said cautiously. “But the management company could’ve told you that. Was that all you wanted to know?”
“No. Sorry.” Moira sounded frustrated. “This would have been easier face-to-face, but please hear me out. People in our area belong to a specialist group…”
Redford scooted closer, and Damon nodded even though Moira couldn’t see him. “Go on.”
“And there are stories about the castle that date back to the 1500s that have been passed down in our lore since that time.”
A pack or coven perhaps? Redford asked through their bond.
“Okay.”
“Our elders have always spoken of how the castle used to be a safe space during troubled times for certain groups of people, and I guess my question is, did you find any information hidden in the east tower that would support that story?”
Damon looked at Redford. Should I say anything? Redford nodded. “Are you asking, Ms. Campbell, hypothetically of course, if the protectors with stone in their bones, and fire in their blood have come home to the castle?”
There was a long silence, and for a moment Damon thought the call had dropped out, but then Moira squealed, “Yes! Yes! Yes! There are paranormals in the castle again?”
“Yes,” Damon said, and he couldn’t help but smile. Moira sounded so genuinely excited.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much for understanding what I meant. I wanted to visit personally, but I didn’t know how without it being awkward. I’m the alpha of the Highland Pack down in Inverness.”
“I’m a hellhound, Ms. Campbell, and my mate Redford Stone is a gargoyle. He inherited the castle, and we’re restoring it.”
“Oh, my goodness, that’s wonderful. Listen, I don’t want to presume, but there are stories about Duncarrick. Old stories.” Her voice dropped. “About it being a sanctuary during the witch trials.”
“The stories are true. We found the documents.”
“Thank the Fates.” Relief flooded through her words.
“Damon, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are paranormals in Scotland who still need sanctuary.
Not from witch trials, obviously, but from other dangers.
Abusive pack situations, clan politics, humans getting too curious.
We’ve been managing on our own, but having an official safe house again… ”
“We haven’t decided…” Damon started.
“Could we meet?” Moira interrupted gently. “Just to talk? I promise I’m not trying to pressure you, but if there’s even a tiny chance Duncarrick could open as a sanctuary again, I’d like to discuss what that might look like.”
Damon met Redford’s gaze across the room. His mate’s expression was thoughtful, one hand rubbing his jaw.
“Let me talk to my mate,” Damon said. “Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“Of course. And thank you. Even if you decide not to in the short term, just knowing that precious place is in good hands means more than you could know.” Moira gave him her number before hanging up.
“The sanctuary,” Redford said slowly. “She wants us to reopen the castle as a sanctuary.”
“We don’t have to…”
“But what if we did?”
Damon set down his phone. “What?”
“Think about it.” Redford stood, pacing again. “The castle called us here. You said Beatrice’s wards were keyed to gargoyles and hellhounds specifically. Maybe this is why. Not just to restore the building, but to restore its purpose.”
“That’s a big commitment, Red.”
“I know.” Redford stopped at the window, looking out at the ruins. “But you said you wanted to build something, and what if this is it? We could build not just a home, but a haven - a place where other paranormals can be safe.”
Damon’s hound seemed to think it was a good idea, and Damon got the impression Redford’s gargoyle was just as keen. There was only one thing holding Damon back. “Red, my mate. You just left a job where you worked yourself to exhaustion. I don’t want to see that happen again.”
“This would be different. We’d be helping people together, on our own terms.” Redford turned. “And we wouldn’t be alone. Your pack would help, and Moira said there are other paranormals in Scotland. We could build a network, like the original sanctuary had.”
“You’re serious about this.”
“I think I am.” Redford crossed to him. “But only if you want it too. This has to be our decision.”
Damon pulled his mate down onto the couch, thinking.
A sanctuary meant responsibility, work, and danger sometimes – although after dealing with Underworld spirits and demons for millennia, Damon wasn’t really worried about that.
And on the other side of the coin was the fact that their lives could have purpose, as they built a community that could, over time – and it would be a long time –make a difference.
“We’d need help,” he said finally. “Proper wards, security, protocols for intake. Moira’s probably got ideas about what modern paranormals need.”
“So we meet with her?”
“I think we should definitely start with that, yes.” Damon kissed Redford’s temple. “And we talk to Kolton, Simon, and JC when they arrive and get their input.”
“It’s starting to sound like a real pack decision.”
“Exactly.”
Redford’s relief rippled through their bond. “I wasn’t sure you’d go for it.”
“Are you kidding? My hound is practically doing backflips.” Damon grinned. “Hellhounds by their very nature are protectors, just like you gargoyles are. For me, this would be similar to what I did in the Underworld, just with better scenery.”
“And me.”
“Definitely an improvement over chasing evil spirits.”