When Gargoyles Fly Page 3
Would he wake again? Or was this it? His one chance outside the sorcerer’s curse? He should be happy that he’d had this night with Kami. He could feel the sadness that leaving her was causing him.
Up on the building, perched on the ledge, he stared down at her as he began to lose feeling in his feet. All he could think of was how much it hurt to leave her, to know he might never see her again.
Kami had awakened him more deeply than he’d thought, changed not just his frozen state, but his heart - his soul.
Impossible as it seemed, he loved her.
And the next time he woke might be one hundred years in the future. Or perhaps, he’d never wake again.
Kami spent hours at the accident scene, telling her story over and over, or the one she’d made up. The bowed hood of her attacker’s car was hard to explain, as was the passenger door that Mord had torn off her vehicle. By the time an officer discovered the footprints broken through the asphalt, they quit asking, just shook their heads and snapped photos.
It was almost ten the next morning when she was finally released. The Mason had been rushed off as soon as an ambulance arrived. She’d learned he was alive, but in critical condition. No one would say if they thought he would make it or not.
Kami wanted to get home, to be with Mord.
She hurried inside, but the place was empty. Belatedly, she realized she’d locked the door. He’d had no way in. He must have gone somewhere else to wait, but where?
Realizing exactly where he would go — the only other place he could go - she raced back out of the door without bothering to pull it closed behind her. She wanted to see him. Needed to see him.
Beneath his building, she paused, shielding her eyes from the bright light. He was there, right where he’d always been, in all his gargoyle glory. She smiled. All these people walking by and none of them realized he was alive.
She jumped up and waved to grab his attention.
He didn’t move.
She jumped again.
Nothing.
He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t pretending. He was rock. Solid, hard rock. Just like the lump that had formed in her gut.
She raced towards the building, flew past the doorman who tried to stop her from entering and made it into the elevator. The other occupants stepped back, stared at her. She caught a glimpse of herself in the polished metal doors - hair tangled, eyes wild. She looked like someone who’d missed her meds, someone who believed in gargoyles.
She ignored the thought, darted from the elevator as soon as the doors opened. The room that led to Mord’s ledge was empty. It was easy to get in, to slide up the window and crawl along the ledge.
He was there - beautiful, perfect. She whispered his name, reached out to touch him, and felt a hand wrap around her ankle. She heard a woman’s voice shrieking, a man speaking softly as he pulled her in off the ledge. “You’re fine now. Someone is coming.”
But she wasn’t fine. They didn’t understand. She wasn’t fine because Mord wasn’t with her. She was alone. Again.
Months had passed. Months filled with medications and doctors, telling Kami gargoyles were just statues, that her vivid fantasies had caused her to somehow crash her car and cause a terrible accident that had almost killed a man.
She’d taken to walking the streets at night, staring up at the building, at Mord. He was always there, never moved.
The doctors were right. He wasn’t alive, but it couldn’t have all been a dream. It couldn’t have.
The wind whistled past Mord’s face. Another night, awake, alone. He’d travelled the city, searched to see if other gargoyles were awake, if the chimeras were awake. None were. He was alone.
His search for the sorcerer had also been futile.
Then he’d turned his attention to the Mason. The man had a warehouse full of statues, each intricately crafted, each a mix of man and beast. An army of chimeras, but locked in stone. Mord had walked among them in the deep of night. None had stirred. The Mason had to be building a force of chimeras, planning to use Kami to bring them to life. Was he alone? Or were there others in on his plan?
If Mord hadn’t been so fixated on saving Kami, he might know the answer. But he’d reacted to the danger to Kami with no thought of saving the one man that might have the information he needed to keep the world safe - The Mason. He’d risked everything for one human: Kami. It couldn’t happen again.
He gazed down, only his eyes lowering. Kami was below on the street, watching again. Every night she’d watched, appeared at erratic intervals. She needed to give up, move on. He couldn’t be with her. A part of him said he couldn’t even afford to allow her to live. Yes, she could bring the gargoyles back to life, but she could also be used against them. If she were dead, that risk would be gone.
At first he’d told himself he’d use her to awaken the gargoyles, then eliminate her once the job was done. But he knew that was a lie. He knew if he allowed himself to get that close to her, he’d weaken and think of another reason to spare her. But as long as the chimeras remained asleep, all would be well. Which brought him back to killing Kami.
But he was weak, couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Night after night, she appeared, as if to torture him. And night after night he fought the same battle inside himself, between his head and his heart; the latter, an organ he hadn’t had to deal with before meeting Kami. Which one would win?
“One last time,” Kami told herself through her tears. She’d bribed a member of the cleaning crew, bought her way back into the building, and out onto the ledge. The crew was gone now, everyone was gone. Even the streets were empty.
There was no one here but her and Mord.
She inched forwards. Ran her hand down his arm. He was cold, still, stone.
She was here. Mord tried to stop his heart from beating, tried to stay in his stony state. If he revealed that he was alive, he’d have to make the choice. Do his duty and kill her? Or go with his heart and let her live?
Her hand grazed his arm, warm and supple. His body tingled, the feeling of life flowing into him almost painful. He gritted his teeth. Why wouldn’t she give up?
“Mord?” Her voice caught. “Mord?” A whisper. Her fingers trailed down his side.
He kept his gaze firm — straight ahead.
“I love you.” She pressed a kiss against his shoulder, started to move backwards, towards the window.
He’d won. She’d given up.
Then he heard it, a sob. He felt the moisture she’d left behind on his skin.
She was crying, over him.
He tried to resist, tried to stop himself, but couldn’t. Couldn’t deny any longer that the magic wasn’t temporary. It had changed him. He loved this human, enough that he would risk anything, everything, to keep her safe.
He stepped forwards, off of the ledge. He spread his wings behind him and hovered behind Kami. “I love you too.”
She froze, twisted too quickly, and fell. But Mord was there to catch her. Just like he would always be.
Author Biographies
Lori Devoti
Author of the Unbound series from Silhouette Nocturne.
loridevoti.com
Constable & Robinson Ltd
3 The Lanchesters 162 Fulham Palace Road
London W6 9ER www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson, an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2009
“When Gargoyles Fly” © by Lori Devoti. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
The right of Trisha Telep to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed o
n the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
UK ISBN 978-1-84529-941-5
First published in the United States in 2009 by Running Press Book Publishers
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.
US Library of Congress number: 2008942197 US ISBN 978-7624-3651-4
Running Press Book Publishers
2300 Chestnut Street Philadelphia, PA 19103-4371
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Lori Devoti, When Gargoyles Fly
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