Chapter Sixteen #3
“Gargoyle resonance,” Simon said, but he was watching Redford with something that looked like hope. “It’s good for him, having another gargoyle around, as well as other hellhounds. I didn’t think I could have that for him.”
“I think that sort of thing is good for all of us,” Redford said quietly, as Damon came up, peering at Warner as he leaned against Redford’s side. Yep, Redford wasn’t the only one thinking about family expansion, he could tell that just by Damon’s smile and the glint in his eye.
They returned to the cottage for lunch, and Redford was helping Damon slice vegetables when JC popped into the living room. Redford was used to translocation – gargoyles could use a similar power themselves, but seeing someone just arrive still gave him a bit of a jolt.
JC was broad-shouldered and tall – like honestly, did Lord Hades never think about creating short hellhounds, but then, with the job they were meant to do, probably not.
Redford had a sudden image of the Lord of the Underworld being surrounded by corgis.
JC also had dark hair and striking blue eyes.
Dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a bulky jacket, he carried a leather satchel.
“I’m here for the documents,” JC said by way of greeting. “Show me.”
“Hello to you too,” Damon said dryly. “JC, you know Kolton, Simon, and baby Warner already. This is Redford. Red, this is JC - our pack’s resident history obsessive.”
“Nice to meet you.” Redford offered his hand, which JC shook quickly before turning back to Damon.
“The journal. You said it was dated from 1565?”
“It’s on the kitchen table. You could at least pretend to be happy to see us.” Damon gestured with a sigh. Clearly, he didn’t see JC’s actions as unusual. “I left it all laid out for you.”
JC moved past them, already pulling on white gloves. He bent over the documents, his entire body going still in that way of someone encountering something precious.
“This is...” JC’s voice was hushed. “Damon, this is incredible. Look at this handwriting, the preservation. And the detail…” He carefully turned a page.
“They documented absolutely everything. Names, dates, even the routes the survivors took. This is a complete record of a paranormal underground railroad.”
“We found it hidden in the east tower.” Redford moved to JC’s side. “Behind a wall, in a hidden chamber.”
“Of course.” JC looked up, blue eyes bright. “Sanctuary spaces always had hidden rooms. For the most vulnerable or for records like this.” He touched the journal with reverent care. “You’re going to contact the Paranormal Council?”
“We planned to,” Damon confirmed. “But we wanted pack input first, especially yours.”
“You’re thinking of reopening it, aren’t you?” JC’s gaze sharpened. “As a functioning sanctuary.”
“We’re thinking about it very seriously, yes. There’s interest from local packs.”
JC straightened. “Okay, then I’m glad you called me. You’re going to need modern security systems, a heap more magical wards, and a secure intake process. This isn’t the sixteenth century. You can’t just hide people in towers anymore, not without other people noticing.”
“But we could make it work?” Redford asked.
“With the right team?” JC smiled slowly. “Absolutely, and I’ll help where I can. This kind of historical preservation combined with an active use case - that’s my version of a Friday night treat.”
Dinner that evening was chaos in the best way.
Five adults - six people counting Warner - crowded around the kitchen table that Damon had expanded with a thought.
They ate pasta and garlic bread, passed Warner between them when he fussed, argued about the best approach to tower restoration, and laughed at Kolton’s stories about their deer shifter neighbors.
Sitting between Damon and Simon, with Warner dozing in his arms and Damon’s contentment at seeing two of his brothers again seeping through their bond, Redford thought back to the nights he spent working alone at his desk.
At the cases he took because he didn’t have a life, or more accurately, how totally empty that life had been.
This is what’s important, he realized. Family, friends…little ones. Oh, yes, Redford was getting ideas, but he really didn’t think Damon would mind.
His phone buzzed during dessert. It was Malcolm, checking in.
Malcolm: Coming back in two weeks. Doctor cleared me for light work. Want me and the crew to prioritize any specific areas?
Redford showed the message to Damon, who leaned close to read.
“The west wing,” Damon murmured. “We need to make that habitable. We’ll handle the east tower ourselves.”
Redford typed quickly. Focus on making the west wing livable - roof, windows, and basic utilities. We’ll tackle the east tower separately.
Malcolm: Sounds good. See you in two weeks.
“So we’re really doing this,” Simon said, watching them. “Restoring the sanctuary.”
“We’re really doing this,” Redford confirmed.
Warner yawned against Redford’s shoulder, and Simon smiled.
“Welcome to the family,” Simon said quietly.
Redford hummed, and Warner settled deeper into sleep.