Read Embrace (The Gryphon Series) Online
Authors: Stacey Rourke
When it came to places to wait for
an end-all, be-all fight Caleb’s apartment building was actually quite nice. His apartment was situated on the second story of an old Victorian style house. The first floor held a cute, little flower shop. Assorted floral scents wafted through the night air. In the center of the gravel parking lot sat a beautiful grey stone fountain surrounded by baskets of mums in all the deep shades of autumn. Water gushed from the top of it and cascaded down in a wide arc. A lion’s head had been chiseled into the base of the fountain, which, of course, made me think of Gabe. I hadn’t told him about Alec yet, and now my plan to do so had to be put on hold so I could clean up another messy situation I’d gotten myself into. A massive Gabe-splosion was in the very near future. The longer I sat there, the more condemning and arrogant the lion’s expression appeared to be.
“
Stupid, judgmental lion.” I muttered as I ran my hands over my chilled arms to warm them. While my hip-length lime green trench coat, lightweight tan sweater, skinny jeans, and black high-heeled boots had been cute for date night, it wasn’t the best attire for an outdoor stakeout.
Positioned out of the way from other homes or businesses, the street was quiet. The hum of the streetlights
, the occasional hoot of an owl, and the gurgling of the fountain added the soundtrack to the evening. It would’ve been peaceful if I wasn’t cold and smarting from deceit.
In the distance
, I heard the purr of a motorcycle. I rose up on icicle stick legs. My gaze fixed on the road. The rumble grew louder. Caleb appeared from the darkness. Gravel kicked up as he parked the bike next to the staircase. Our eyes locked as soon as he pulled off his helmet. Flakes of snow began to flutter down from the sky as if attempting to snuff out the destructive fires burning inside of me. It didn’t work.
He climbed off his bike and
cautiously approached the base of the stairs. With his hands raised and his eyes pleading, he peered up at me. “Celeste, please let me explain.”
“
Explain what?” My words came out a snarl. “How you deliberately tried to get close to me so you could kill me?” I jerked my head to the side. “I pieced it together, thanks.”
Caleb heaved a deep sigh. “Ya were asleep in my bed for an hour, love
y. If I wanted ya dead, ya would be.”
His term of endearment made my
hands ball into fists. Mostly out of anger at myself that part of me liked it. “Was that your attempt at reassuring? ‘Cause you missed the mark.”
“I just want ya to hear me out.”
“I’m thinkin’—no. No more talking. No more flirting. No more longing looks. It all stops
now
. The Countess sent you to kill me? Well, here’s your big chance.” I leapt through the air
X-Men
style. A mid-air flip and I landed in a crouch behind him.
Caleb’s back stiffened as he turned to face me
. “Ya’re the first good thing I’ve had in my life in over three centuries. I don’t want tah kill ya. I want tah help ya.”
His words stabbed into my heart. The foolish girl in me wanted to believe him. But the warrior knew better.
“Drop the act ‘cause I’m not buying it.” I assumed a fighting stance. “Now let’s finish this.”
His
jaw clenched as he shook his head. “I’m not goin’ to fight ya.”
“
Good. Then this’ll be over quick.” I corkscrewed around and aimed the side of my fist on course to connect with his windpipe. With demonic speed, he blocked my strike. I countered with a right hook. He caught my fist.
The heat of his breath warmed my icy skin as he leaned in close.
“Has anyone ever told ya you’re infuriatingly stubborn?”
Against my better judgment my body responded to him. Knowing I really
shouldn’t
be thinking about kissing him, I tried to shake it off and appear unfazed. “Daily.” I shrugged and unleashed a crazed flurry of punches.
Jab.
Cross.
Hook
.
Upper cut
.
Not once did I make contact. He blocked every
punch with ease. “I would never hurt ya. Ya have tah know that.”
“Oh yeah?” I dropped down into a swing kick. “So the Countess sent you here to what? Start a book club?”
He hopped out of the way. “She sent me tah kill ya. But I’m not the best at followin’ her orders.”
A
well-executed back hand-spring landed me directly in front of him. “From where I’m standing it looks like you followed her orders to the T.” I launched into a succession of rapid-fire jabs.
He raised his forearms to shield himself. Then—in a lightning fast motion— caught both my wrists in his hand and spun me around. I could feel his heart pounding as my back pressed up against him. “I din’t choose this life.” He growled in my ear. “It was forced upon me.
For centuries I’ve fought against it when it would’ve been far easier tah give in and embrace it. But I never did. I felt the need tah fight, but didn’t understand why until I met you. I want tah stand beside ya. To rid the world of this evil once and for all.”
I ja
mmed the heel of my boot into his foot. Caleb howled in pain and released me. I swung around, arms raised. Fists at the ready. “I’ve met rebels of the Dark Army. From where I’m standing you don’t fall into that category. Star pupil in the art of lies and deception seems a bit more accurate.” Caleb winced. The pain from my words etched on his face.
I charged in for another assault. For the first time,
his anger appeared and he fought back. He swung his arm around. The heel of his hand connected with my chest with enough force to knock me off my feet. The skid across gravel bloodied my palms and shredded my favorite coat.
Caleb gripped the collar of his T-shirt and tore it off. The tattered material hung at his waist
by the hem. I gasped. A collage of scars covered his chest. Some old and faded. Some so fresh they still oozed. All of them made by violent means.
If I were to draw an angel of wrath it would look exactly as he did in that moment. His broad
and battered chest exposed. Eyes blazing. Strong jaw set. A gust of wind blowing the ebony locks back from his face. “Do these look like the badges of a star pupil?”
CHAPTER 24
I watched Caleb move around the tiny apartment. He seemed harder now. Perhaps I only thought that because I gave in and took a glimpse into his emotions. For me his mask had been ripped off—along with his shirt—to reveal the battle scarred fighter beneath. I felt the anger and resentment he had bottled up inside of him, all of it directed at the Countess and her Army. It was so powerful and potent I had to severe the connection under the weight of it, before I could grasp the full magnitude. His pain cut so deep, I longed for a way to erase it. I still hadn’t allowed myself to peek into how he felt about me. After this great revelation I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Caleb
pulled off what was left of his shirt and threw it on the back of a hideous plaid chair
.
Then disappeared into his room to retrieve a new one. In his momentary absence, I glanced around and noticed my surroundings for the first time. Every item of furniture in the living room/dining room/ kitchen combo had obviously been purchased in the seventies. The couch I sat on was a deep, burnt orange with scrolled oak trim. The end tables were dark, heavy wood with shiny brass knobs. A plastic owl decorated one wall, a giant wooden fork and spoon another. An old fashion console television took up a quarter of the tiny room. It served as a TV stand for a gigantic flat screen TV. It would seem the expression “boys and their toys” even applied to demonic boys.
“Please tell me this place was furnished when you moved in.” I joked through chattering teeth when Caleb reentered the room.
He pulled the red flannel shirt up his arms, but let it hang open and unbuttoned. His jeans sat low on his hips. “Aye, it did. Except for the television, of course.” He grabbed an afghan from the back of the couch and flung it around my shoulders. “Ya’r lips are blue.”
“That seems about r…r…right. I can’t feel my fingers or my toes.” My whole body quaked. Hugging myself with my arms wasn’t helping at all.
Caleb squatted down in front of me and held out his hands. “May I?”
I started to extend my hand but hesitated. Just because I stopped punching him didn’t mean I was quite ready to hold hands.
His eyes darkened at my hesitation, but he didn’t waver. “Please?”
Cautiously, I put my blue and trembling hands in his. Caleb gripped my frozen digits and closed his eyes. His hair fell across his forehead as he bowed his head.
My gaze fell to the angry welts that criss-crossed over his bare chest. Brutal slashes that had once been. “What happened to you?” I whispered.
He didn’t lift his head to answer. “Let’s just say I’m not the best listener.”
“The Countess did that?”
“Ordered it done. Aye.”
I started to ask why, when warm tickling heat began to course up my arms and thaw my icy skin. Caleb’s hands glowed red hot.
“What kind of demon are you?” The awe in my voice was unmistakable.
He peered up at me with pupils that had suddenly turned the red of burning embers. “I’m a half-breed. Created when they infected me with the blood of a Titan.”
The change in his appearance was fascinating. Flames danced all over his body just beneath the surface of his skin. As if he himself
was
fire. “Titans? Like the Greek gods?”
“Aye. That’s what people
thought
they were. Really they were demons that could control the elements.” As I looked at him now I understood how they’d been confused as gods. He was magnificent. I could only imagine that was why for a moment in the woods I thought I saw his eye glow bright green, his skin become opalescent. Surrounded by nature his connection to the earth must have caused it.
“You can actually control air, water, fire and earth?”
“All but one.” He dropped my hands and my lifeline to that wonderful warmth severed. He pushed off the balls of his feet to stand. Then shook off the effects of calling the heat to him like a swimmer about to dive in the pool. His skin calmed to white. Red eyes cooled to green. “Try as I might, I can’t seem to make the earth move.”
“Maybe you just need practice.” I shrugged and then blushed beet red. “Whoa, that came out wrong.”
His dimple made a brief appearance. “No worries, lovey.”
A light bulb blinked on in my head. “Wait. The storm in the mountains. Was that you?”
His smile vanished as quickly as it came. “Aye. I didn’t want ya to follow me.”
“Point taken.” I muttered.
Old couch springs squealed as Caleb sat down beside me. With his forearms rested on his knees, he rubbed the palms of his hands together and stared at them as he spoke. “When a Seekers’ eyes turn black, the Countess can see through us. If the mood strikes her she can bring out our nastier demon traits. I left because I felt her comin’.”
“You were protecting me?”
He glanced over his flannel clad shoulder at me. His lips pressed firmly together. The look in his eyes confirmed my suspicion.
“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate.
His chin jerked down in an almost nod as he stared back at the floor.
I didn’t know how comfortable he was talking about any of this, but I had to ask. “Were you…taken?”
A stillness fell over him. He folded his hands and brought them up to his lips. “I was just a boy. They threatened to kill my family if I didn’t swear myself to them.” He let his arms fall between his knees as he peered over at me. A shroud of sadness hung on him. “Thought I was doin’ me Dah proud by protecting them. Doubt he’d be proud if he knew the things I’ve done since.”
I reached over and brushed his hair back from his face. The silky locks slid through my fingers like satin. “It’s never too late for redemption.”
Caleb tipped his head toward my hand. His cheek grazed my skin. “I realized that when I met ya. A young lass with heartache all ya’r own. Forced to fight a battle that isn’t ya’rs. Yet ya do it willingly because ya know it’s right. My coming here was my last chance tah prove myself worthy tah the Countess. Failure will mean death. But I’d sooner lay down my life than let her harm you.” Those green eyes bore into me. Deep wells of truth.
“I’d never ask you to do that.”
“And that’s why I would.” The absolution chiseled on his face left no doubt that he meant it.
My gaze flicked down to his Dark Army mark—the badge that b
ound him to wrong side of the war of good versus evil. His branding was different than Rowan’s. Without thinking I reached out and traced my fingers over the raised and puffy scar. An intricate pattern of interlocking circles, all joined by a larger circle in the center and framed by complex scrolls and knots. “What does it mean?”