Chapter 3 – Conley
CONLEY
I’m the lookout, which is unfortunately pretty standard. Until these gargoyles, I never felt tiny and petite. Even amongst the other phoenixes, I was considered to be huge. But not with these guys. Every time there’s heavy lifting to be done, they tell me to go keep an eye out for any trouble.
It’s a little insulting. But I’m not going to say a word.
There’s a strange tension between us that’s hard to explain. I was their prisoner for more years than I can count. The world looked like an entirely new place by the time I was set free. But being in that prison cell, guarded by Lucas and Rokad, we created more than just an alliance between us.
I would say we even became friends.
But that friendship had its limits, like every time I broached the subject of them letting me free.
When I’d ask them to just tell the gargoyle council to screw it and open the locks on my cage, they’d grow guarded again.
They said a gargoyle was nothing without his honor, and they’d given their word.
Their word. It trumped the bond we created, and that was hard not to be hurt by.
But when they awoke their brother Narath and shared with me the deal the gargoyle council had offered… If I fought the monsters that escaped the Underworld with them, they’d let me free. I’d agreed. I’d given them my word. And so, they’d let me go.
The problem is simple: my word isn’t like the word of a gargoyle. I’ve broken it a thousand times before. All I have to do is wait to be alone and then leave these gargoyles and return home. It’s that easy. And they aren’t exactly watching me closely.
So why don’t leave?
It’s because this situation is fucked up. Narath doesn’t like me. Gargoyles and phoenixes are traditionally enemies. But Lucas and Rokad treat me like a brother.
No one has ever treated me like family, not even my own family.
So am I here because of my word? Because in this new world I’m scared and not sure what to do? Because I wonder…if I return to the phoenixes will they even let me come back? Or is it simply because of my bond with two of the triplets?
I don’t know. And I want to know, so I’ve stayed.
A motion near me draws my eye. A moment later, Rokad lands on the branch beside me. He’s not in his stone form, but he does have his wings. And when he’s like this, it almost feels like we’re both the same. At least, I can pretend a little.
“What was she?”
Ah, the woman. I don’t have a fucking clue. A nymph? A goddess? No. There’s something…different about her. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“I’m not sure.”
“But she wasn’t human, not with those claws.” He looks toward me, waiting.
I almost speak, but then hold back. Technically, the gargoyles are triplets and look very alike.
But they’re all their own people. Rokad has the darkest hair and the darkest eyes.
His build is somewhere in the middle of Narath, who looks like a titan on steroids, and Lucas, who could pass for a human football player.
But of the three, he’s the most reasonable.
The thinker. He likes to plan things out ten steps ahead in every situation, and he takes my opinion seriously, so I don’t want to just spew out whatever disorganized crap has come to my mind.
“No, she wasn’t, but she also didn’t seem…bad.”
He tilts his head in that way that means he’s considering my words. “Why do you say that? She killed that bastard without hesitation.”
It’s a gut instinct more than anything, but Rokad doesn’t understand things like that. If it isn’t a fact, it doesn’t matter. “She asked me to take her back to you. She didn’t want any of you to get hurt.”
“To get hurt? Didn’t she realize what we were? And why would she care if strangers got hurt?”
I smile. “Exactly. The only answer seems to be that she has a conscious.”
His brows draw together. “Interesting. A female who can fight and has a moral compass. With claws.”
“But she doesn’t really matter, right?” I ask, studying him. “We’re just on a mission to kill monsters. Nothing else.”
He hesitates before speaking, which makes my stomach flutter.
A small part of me wants these gargoyles to realize that we aren’t just tools for their council.
That we can have a life out here together, if they want.
And that maybe if the stoic Rokad finds a woman such as the one we met tonight interesting, maybe he can find other women interesting too.
Maybe…maybe then it wouldn’t just be me desperately wanting a life with them. There would be something outside of me creating a bond between us. Maybe a woman could be the thing to give them a reason to want more.
And then, he speaks, dashing my hopes away. “You’re right. She doesn’t matter. We just need to focus on the next monster.”
Damn gargoyles. Can’t they be a little less responsible?
“Right.”
We sit together in silence before I see the black smoke rise above the trees. The others are burning the body, using some special herbs we have to make sure we leave no evidence of what happened. And after this? We’ll kill again.
That’s what I have with these men: a mission to kill. Nothing else.
So why am I holding onto them, hoping for something more?
My mother was right, I am fucked up.