Chapter 18 – Byron
BYRON
Ilove the feeling of the wind sweeping around me, especially when my mind is so turbulent.
I knew Marcus would be disappointed in me for my weakness.
He’s always seen me as his second-in-command.
He trusts me to steer our brotherhood into making the right choices, into doing what was necessary for the survival of our people.
My mind goes to my father. The leader of our people. Suddenly, my heart starts to race faster. I push my wings harder, leaving Harold and Forrest behind.
Most gargoyles are created, not born, so families are made between those of us who become close. But my father was made by the same human as I was. He was placed on another corner of the clock tower in the little town we watched over.
The other gargoyles in our town were destroyed during the last war. They’d been asleep too long and unable to awaken at the screams of fear of their humans, but my father and I awoke. And when there was no one left to protect… we left. I went my own way in the world, searching for more of our kind.
And he created the sanctuary.
My father was a harsh man. Yes, he could be cruel at times, but without him, gargoyles would be extinct. Too many had lost themselves in their stone-flesh, never to awaken again. The few who remained survived because of him.
But, soon he would die.
I tense, soaring through clouds. I try so hard not to think about it. Emotions make us weak, make it hard to focus on the task at hand. So why was he all I could think about now?
Far below, I almost miss the meeting place. I swoop down to the ancient ruins and land lightly on the top. The bag on my shoulder suddenly feels too heavy, and I have to take a deep breath to keep myself calm.
Forrest and Harold land loudly behind me.
“They aren’t here yet,” Harold says, slightly surprised.
I shrug.
“I’m kind of glad, because I think we need to talk.” Forrest leans against the building, his expression troubled. “Once they have the statue and the necklace, we’ve done the most important tasks to help our people…”
Yes, the necklace and the statue is what we hope will save our people. But Medusa herself might be the only answer to saving my father, and the other Elites.
“It’s not enough,” I tell him, knowing exactly where his thoughts are going.
“The Elites have lived for a long time—“
“I won’t be responsible for sealing my father’s fate,” I tell him, a warning in my voice.
“But you’re okay with Medusa dying?”
My fists clench. “I didn’t say that.”
Harold puts his hands up, as if to stop our impending fight. “Who says it has to be one life or another?”
“They do!” Forrest and I say together, and then we glare.
Harold sighs and looks toward the moon, speaking in a practical tone that I despise. “If we don’t bring Medusa to the sanctuary, all the older gargoyles die. But then when her use is over, they’ll kill her.”
“Exactly what we just said.” I turn my glare onto him.
“But what if we negotiate for her life?” His words drop between us.
Forrest stands straighter. “You really think they’d negotiate for the life of a monster?”
“We can ask for a Blood Moon Judgment.”
I inhale sharply. My thoughts circle back to the last time one was called. “That still doesn’t guarantee her life.”
“We have three months before the Blood Moon. If they can’t hurt her in that time, they can get to know her… and just like us, they’ll see she isn’t dangerous.”
“It’s a risk,” Forrest says, his expression far away.
“And our entire brotherhood would have to agree to request it from the Elites.” I think of Marcus. “I doubt that will happen.”
Harold turns his light blue eyes onto me. He has a way of softening even the hardest heart. “We can convince them to see things our way. If we’re all on the same page.”
I think back to the last Blood Moon Judgment.
Blood Moons are rare, occurring about twice every three years.
Requesting a Blood Moon Judgment is a risk.
It angers the Elites and makes them less inclined to support the brotherhood that asks for it.
The last request was made more than fifty years ago…
and the brotherhood lost their judgment, their standing in the community, and eventually left their home altogether.
“So this plan rests on the belief that we can convince Marcus to side with us, put our brotherhood in jeopardy, and convince a group of old, angry gargoyles that Medusa isn’t a danger to humanity. That’s one sound plan.”
Harold raises a brow at me. “Do you have a better idea?”
I don’t, so I keep my mouth shut.
We spot the two gargoyles before they land. Max and Arthur are not nearly as large as we are. But they’re twins, crafted from the same maker, and both have a good spirit.
Max shifts back into his human-form and grins at me.
I shift as he approaches. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a “bro-hug,” as he likes to call it. “When I heard you guys were successful, I wasn’t surprised. The others though… they were sure either Eros or Athena would have turned you into dust by now.”
Forrest laughs as he hugs Arthur. “Please! We told those gods we were taking what we wanted, and they could go fuck themselves.”
Arthur throws back his head full of shaggy, dark hair and laughs. “So you guys grabbed the stuff and ran?”
“Exactly,” Forrest says, with a smirk.
“So where are they?” Max asks, and our smiles vanish.
I let my bag slide from my shoulders and carefully open the top. Harold helps me pull out the statue and the necklace.
Arthur whistles low. “Damn!”
Max takes the necklace gently from my hands and looks at the broken clasp. Briefly I remember tearing it from Medusa’s neck, unable to stop myself when I saw her panic.
“How did it break?” Max asks.
Harold answers before I can. “Stealing from Gods is harder than you think.”
Max’s grey eyes lock onto us, and I can see he knows we aren’t telling the truth, but he’s a good guy. He’ll keep it to himself. “I guess the necklace works, with or without the clasp.”
Arthur takes the statue and pokes at the giant dick. “They must have carved this after seeing what I’m packing.”
Forrest slaps him on the back and points at the figure. “No man, you’re looking at his nose. That down there is his cock.”
They’re grinning like idiots, which calms my tension… at least a little. I forgot how nice it was to be around the others.
“So tell us about the monster,” Max says. “Is Marcus able to keep her prisoner on his own?”
“I’m sure he’s doing just fine,” I say, dryly.
Max raises a brow and meets my gaze with an unspoken question in his eyes.
“Has she killed any humans on your mission?” Arthur asks, sounding excited.
Harold answers, his voice tense. “She isn’t like that.”
“Like what?” Arthur grins. “A killing monster?”
“Yeah.” Harold’s eyes narrow. “Did you know she wasn’t even born a monster?”
I feel every muscle in my body tense. I don’t feel like that’s our story to tell.
“How so?” Max removes his bag and pulls out soft leather. He begins to very gently wrap the necklace.
“She was a human once. She used to serve in Athena’s temple, but she was raped by Poseidon. Athena cursed her in punishment.”
Max freezes in his task. Arthur’s amusement at the statue flees. None of us can stomach the idea of a fragile human being hurt, but women? We have a particular weakness for them.
“So how did she go from a human, punished for being a victim, to being a killing-machine?” Max says, finishing wrapping the necklace and putting it in his bag.
“Who said she was a killing-machine?” Forrest sounds like he’s trying to keep his voice light. “She’s just a creature with an unfortunate ability.”
Max stands and puts the bag on his back. “You guys aren’t going rogue, are you?”
I grab him by the shirt and shove him backward. His lower back hits the edge of the building, and his top half hangs over the edge.
Forrest swears and grabs me by the shoulder. “Stop it!”
“Let him go!” Harold says.
Someone grabs me with surprising strength and yanks me and the little fucker back. But I don’t let go of Max.
Arthur is suddenly peering at me, his expression thunderous. “Let go of my brother.”
“He ever accuses us of going rogue again, and I’ll break every bone in his fucking human body. Understand?”
“Got it.” Max says the words, but there’s rage in his eyes.
I release him and step back. Harold and Forrest are immediately between me and them.
Max kneels down and picks up the statue from where it was dropped in the fray. “Luckily it didn’t get broken.” There’s an accusation in his words that I don’t like.
“Next time you should choose your words with care,” I growl at him.
Max’s anger fades, and he cocks his head and looks at all of us.
“I was joking. I’ve known you guys for too long to throw around an accusation like that.
I know damn-well you aren’t fucking monster-lovers.
Just watch it—for a minute you sounded like you sympathized with a beast that’s been turning humans to stone for thousands of years.
If you arrive home talking like that, you might find yourselves turned to dust before you think. ”
My fists clench, and I take a step closer to him.
Forrest whirls to face them. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Max wraps the little statue and puts it in his own bag.
“We’ll get these back as fast as we can fly.
The ladies will appreciate it. The Elites already created a shrine where the women will lay and the magical artifacts will be near them, to offer them protection and help.
You’ll receive a hero’s welcome when you return, bet on that. ”
“Thank you,” Harold answers, and maybe they don’t sense the tension in his words, but I do.
We stiffly give another bro-hug, and then shift back into gargoyles and take off into the sky. When they’re little more than shapes against a moon-lit sky, I turn to Harold. “Still think they’ll give Medusa a fair chance?”
Forrest shoots me a dirty look. “We can always choose the alternative—to let the old men die.”
I glare at him. “Or to let her be killed.”
But even when I speak the words, I know I can’t allow either death to occur. My soul could never recover from it. If we can convince Marcus, we’ll risk our lives and reputation with a Blood Moon Judgment.
How fucking wonderful…