sense her gargoyle anywhere near. Like Gran said, he must have disappeared at some point during the conversation about kinky sex. Smart fellow.
Alone in the kitchen, she put the tea kettle on to boil while she thought over the last conversation. It was best the gargoyle wasn’t around. It would be beyond awkward to ask him outright if he expected fringe benefits for saving her from the bad guys, and the stress of the last day had obliterated the filter between her brain and her mouth. No telling what would come out if she talked to him now.
She gathered her grandmother’s fancy cups and saucers from the cupboard by the back window. While placing them on a tray next to the teapot, she glanced out. Her uncle and brother were cleaning the garden. Her uncle lugged an oversized gasoline jug.
It hadn’t occurred to her what “cleaning up” would entail. Now she witnessed the gruesome details as he poured a generous amount of fuel on one dark spot. Of course they’d need to burn away the blood and remains. If a gargoyle’s blood could heal, there was no telling what evil–tainted blood might do. A match ignited the spot.
Mesmerized by the flames, she watched until the kettle’s shrill whistle broke her concentration. She shook herself and made the tea. Earl Grey, her grandmother’s favorite. Maybe it would put Gran in a talkative mood. With each new piece of knowledge Lillian gained, more questions surfaced, like “who was she?” and “why was she here?” And what did the gargoyle want? That a gargoyle, one of the Light’s Assassin’s, was glued to her side couldn’t bode well for a peaceful future.
Well, the kitchen tiles weren’t going to give her any information. She scooped up the tray of cups in one hand and the teapot in the other. Armed with tea and cookies, she went to find more answers.
Back in the living room, Gran and the dryads had turned the coffee table into a combat command center. Maps with topographical overlays showed rivers and land elevations. One looked like a modern road map, except instead of the familiar towns and cities, there were a strange lot of squiggles and foreign names around boundaries she didn’t understand, like some alien civilization had taken over the world she knew.
“They violated Clan territory to get here.” Gran frowned down at the map. “I want to know how they escaped the Clan’s notice.”
“What if they didn’t escape the Clan’s notice?” Sable asked.
“No. I don’t believe it. The Clan wouldn’t sell us out.”
“Not even to save their own pack members? A dire wolf is loyal to its pack.”
“They suffered as much as we did in the attacks six years ago.”
“Perhaps the alphas don’t have as much control as they once did?”
“You’re guessing.”
“No more than you,” Sable countered.
Gran grunted. “Fine, we’ll be on guard. The alphas are coming here tomorrow after the Hunt. I will question them then. And if they are deceitful, the gargoyle may beat me to them.”
“Why not bring Lillian and the gargoyle to tonight’s Hunt. If they are hiding anything, the gargoyle will smell their deception.”
“Yes, I plan to talk to the gargoyle about that.” Gran looked up and motioned for Lillian to serve the tea. “Ah, lovely.”
Lillian let her mind go blank as she filled teacups, politely asking what everyone wanted in theirs. She was pouring her grandmother a cup when movement on the stairs caught Lillian’s attention.
A tall man with sun–browned skin glided down the stairs with an athlete’s grace—a nearly naked man, she amended. A rather handsome, nearly naked man. His knee–length beaded loincloth, gold torque, and gem–encrusted arm bands were suspiciously like her gargoyle’s. A silky black mane reached passed his shoulders and was tied at the back with a piece of hide. His bare, human feet made no noise as he descended.
“I think that’s enough tea, Lillian,” Gran said.
Lillian glanced down. She’d
Alone in the kitchen, she put the tea kettle on to boil while she thought over the last conversation. It was best the gargoyle wasn’t around. It would be beyond awkward to ask him outright if he expected fringe benefits for saving her from the bad guys, and the stress of the last day had obliterated the filter between her brain and her mouth. No telling what would come out if she talked to him now.
She gathered her grandmother’s fancy cups and saucers from the cupboard by the back window. While placing them on a tray next to the teapot, she glanced out. Her uncle and brother were cleaning the garden. Her uncle lugged an oversized gasoline jug.
It hadn’t occurred to her what “cleaning up” would entail. Now she witnessed the gruesome details as he poured a generous amount of fuel on one dark spot. Of course they’d need to burn away the blood and remains. If a gargoyle’s blood could heal, there was no telling what evil–tainted blood might do. A match ignited the spot.
Mesmerized by the flames, she watched until the kettle’s shrill whistle broke her concentration. She shook herself and made the tea. Earl Grey, her grandmother’s favorite. Maybe it would put Gran in a talkative mood. With each new piece of knowledge Lillian gained, more questions surfaced, like “who was she?” and “why was she here?” And what did the gargoyle want? That a gargoyle, one of the Light’s Assassin’s, was glued to her side couldn’t bode well for a peaceful future.
Well, the kitchen tiles weren’t going to give her any information. She scooped up the tray of cups in one hand and the teapot in the other. Armed with tea and cookies, she went to find more answers.
Back in the living room, Gran and the dryads had turned the coffee table into a combat command center. Maps with topographical overlays showed rivers and land elevations. One looked like a modern road map, except instead of the familiar towns and cities, there were a strange lot of squiggles and foreign names around boundaries she didn’t understand, like some alien civilization had taken over the world she knew.
“They violated Clan territory to get here.” Gran frowned down at the map. “I want to know how they escaped the Clan’s notice.”
“What if they didn’t escape the Clan’s notice?” Sable asked.
“No. I don’t believe it. The Clan wouldn’t sell us out.”
“Not even to save their own pack members? A dire wolf is loyal to its pack.”
“They suffered as much as we did in the attacks six years ago.”
“Perhaps the alphas don’t have as much control as they once did?”
“You’re guessing.”
“No more than you,” Sable countered.
Gran grunted. “Fine, we’ll be on guard. The alphas are coming here tomorrow after the Hunt. I will question them then. And if they are deceitful, the gargoyle may beat me to them.”
“Why not bring Lillian and the gargoyle to tonight’s Hunt. If they are hiding anything, the gargoyle will smell their deception.”
“Yes, I plan to talk to the gargoyle about that.” Gran looked up and motioned for Lillian to serve the tea. “Ah, lovely.”
Lillian let her mind go blank as she filled teacups, politely asking what everyone wanted in theirs. She was pouring her grandmother a cup when movement on the stairs caught Lillian’s attention.
A tall man with sun–browned skin glided down the stairs with an athlete’s grace—a nearly naked man, she amended. A rather handsome, nearly naked man. His knee–length beaded loincloth, gold torque, and gem–encrusted arm bands were suspiciously like her gargoyle’s. A silky black mane reached passed his shoulders and was tied at the back with a piece of hide. His bare, human feet made no noise as he descended.
“I think that’s enough tea, Lillian,” Gran said.
Lillian glanced down. She’d
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