Gryphon and His Thief (3 page)

The thief…this woman couldn't be his lady
wife. She died centuries ago because he had not protected her. His
failure had been the reason he'd been cursed, and yet he knew the
woman at his feet was indeed his beloved. The shape of her eyes,
the upturn of her nose and the lips…
those kissable lips…
How had he not seen it, even with the ridiculous disguise she'd
worn?

Her groans alerted his attention to the
situation at hand. She'd been hurt, and though she was strong,
she'd hit her head and such an injury could prove fatal.

He scooped her into his arms with care and
headed for her room before they drew unwanted attention. Once
inside, he closed the door behind him with a kick of his boot and
strode over to the bed, placing her gently on top of the covers.
His hand brushed a wayward strand from her face and she stirred,
leaning toward his caress as if she sought his touch. No fiery
spark, but he could still feel the energy pulsing between them as
her cheek touched his palm.

His plans to eliminate her had taken a sharp
turn. "Ah Callista, what am I to do now?" His guardsman's duties
bade him to protect the cursed treasures at all cost. "…all costs,"
he murmured then shook his head. He could not harm Callista. Not
when he'd been waiting all these centuries for her soul to be
reborn to this world. No, he must convince her to return the stone
on her own accord. It would be the only way to appease the beastie
that raged inside of him.

His gaze slid over her features, so calm and
relaxed in slumber, but he knew once she awakened, he would be
faced with the warrior. Convincing her to do the right thing would
prove to be his greatest challenge yet.

Chapter Three

Calli groaned as she came back to the world
of the living. The constant throb at the back of her skull made her
world seem off centered. She blinked and sat up, but the sudden
movement proved to be a big mistake. A really big mistake. Her hand
went to the side of her head as if she could stop her heartbeat
from trying to settle in her eardrum. "What happened?" she asked,
not expecting an answer.

"You are safe," a deep voice said, which in
no way made her feel safe in the least. She bit off the urge to
scream when she caught sight of a man lurking in the shadows.

Scrambling off the bed, she went for her
dagger that should have been strapped to her belt and realized too
late she'd lost it when she threw it at the Gryphon, who had tried
to eat her for a snack. She blinked—hard. Yep, that
statement—though said to herself—definitely sounded like she lost
her marbles, and the way her head pounded like jackhammers had
taken up residence in her brain, she was convinced the statement
held merit.

She may not have her dagger, but she'd been
trained to improvise. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught
sight of the phone sitting on the nightstand, black, push button
and heavy. She grabbed it with the receiver in one hand and the
base in the other. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?
Answer quick or I'm going to go all
Nicky Santoro
on your
head." She'd seen Casino and the phone treatment. Yep, considerable
damage could be inflicted with a phone. She gripped the receiver
and shook it in his direction for emphasis on her threat.

The man carefully stepped away from the
shadows, revealing his features—rugged jaw, sharp planes, and high
cheekbones.

"You!" Her word accused and condemned all in
one roll of the tongue. How did the man from the museum find
her?

Only seconds had ticked by as her brain
played catch-up on the details of the night's events. When it did,
it all came flooding back to her in Tsunami fashion—
Stealing
the stone… Greek god confronted her… Gryphon attacked her in the
parking lot… then a man grabbed her at the motel…
electric
shock…
She teetered on her feet as waves of emotions crashed
down on her with each vision—
Adrenaline rush… attraction…
fear…

The man started toward her. One, then two
steps before she focused. "Don't come any closer. I swear…" She
shook the phone at him. He halted his steps and held up his hands
in surrender, which was kind of funny since he was in her room
uninvited, and she was pretty sure he'd been the one to zap her
into oblivion.

She needed to sit down and her rump landed on
the nightstand behind her. She planned on staying put until the
room stopped its infernal spin cycle. "Who are you?" she demanded
as she sized him up. His features took a second or two to come into
focus. What she really wanted to ask him was:
What
are you?
Because no normal human could materialize out of nowhere and zap a
person with his bare hand. But hey, she could go with a name first.
At least until she was steady on her feet and could put up a good
fight—if things went down that way.

"Darrien," he said and bowed his head.

"Hmm… Darrien, no last name? Just Darrien,
like you're a rock star or something." Her eyes shifted to his
T-shirt logo and her brows lifted in question. Maybe he really was
in a band when he wasn't hanging out at museums and training
Gryphons to attack innocent bystanders. Well, not so innocent,
but—and she really needed to stop with the crazy scenarios.

"Callista, we must talk," he said. "I am not
sure—"

"Who's Callista?" she questioned,
interrupting him before he took this further.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked.
She could see a battle going on inside of him as if he couldn't
comprehend why she didn't know him.

Yeah, confusion seemed to be catchy tonight.
Well it ended here. "For your information,
crazier-than-the-mad-hatter-on-a-good-day
, my name is Calli.
So you have the wrong girl if you think I'm this Callista
chick."

He tilted his head to the side, keeping his
calm and she might have believed he accomplished the feat, but then
his eyes glowed like golden fire. "You truly do not remember me
then?" he asked again.

She was still hung up on his eyes changing
colors and it took her a moment to realize he asked her a question.
"No, whack-job, I don't know you. Unless you believed our
introduction at the museum was a start of a beautiful
friendship."

His lips pursed and his nose flared, probably
due to the name-calling. Maybe she should give that a rest. She had
no idea what she was dealing with, but if the man thought it was
okay to taser her, it couldn't be good. She frowned as she
remembered him coming upon her outside the motel room. She never
saw a taser, and she could have sworn he grabbed her with his bare
hand before the jolt zapped them apart. If that wasn't freaky
enough, the special effects back at the museum proved more than she
wanted to handle. God, she wished her head would stop pounding so
she could think clearly.

She licked her dry lips and tried to think of
a way out of the situation without ticking off the big guy. "Are
you a magician or something? 'Cause the whole Gryphon statue
appearing and disappearing was kinda cool." Creepy also, but she
kept that piece of information to herself.

There had to be an explanation to the weird
experience. The statue moving around the museum was nothing
compared to a friggin' Gryphon swooping down from the heavens and
attacking her. Her gaze met his and she blinked just to make sure
she wasn't imagining what she was seeing. "Could you stop doing
that…uh…" she pointed at him, "thingy you're doing with your
eyes?"

His brows furrowed over the bridge of his
nose, and didn't that just make him adorable when concern marred
his expression.
Dangerous and vulnerable all in one,
she
thought then shook her head. The guy may have the looks, but he
wasn't playing with a full deck. Her gaze traveled down the length
of him, admiring but also wondering when he had time to change his
Greek mythology costume to his cool hang-low-on-the-hips jeans.
Surely, she hadn't been unconscious that long.

"What is it I am doing?" he asked. "I assure
you it is not intentional."

It took her a moment to realize what he was
talking about.
Oh yeah…
"Your eyes… They're glowing."

His lips curved, and that wasn't a bad look
on him either. "It cannot be helped. It is the beastie, you see. It
tries to dominate and is fueled by my emotions."

Did she really want to know what he meant by
the beastie? It seemed she did when her next question slipped from
her lips before she could think better of it. "The beastie?" she
asked.

"Come now, Callista—"

"My name is
Calli
," she interrupted.
She in no way was going to have him believe she was some chick he'd
been involved with in the past.

"Calli," he said the name as if he were
trying it out. He nodded then, as if his nutty messed up brain
could handle the name change. "Calli, you spoke of seeing a
Gryphon." He met her gaze with those strange colored-eyes, both
bronze and gold. "The beastie and I are one and the same."

"Holy…" she stuttered. Truly there were no
words, and as crazy as his statement seemed, she believed him.

Chapter Four

Darrien stood still and waited for what he
told her to sink in. Any false moves would result in—what did she
call it? Ah yes, she'd go all
Nicky Santoro
on his head. He
didn't know what that entailed, but he had a good idea he wouldn't
like such a treatment.

"You're a Gryphon?" she more or less
condemned rather than asked the question as her voice raised a few
octaves in the telling. He usually liked the cadence of her voice,
but not now when it made him feel bloody awful. "The very Gryphon
that tried to rip me to shreds?"

He nodded with a long frustrated sigh. "Yes."
There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

She blinked and her long lashes fluttered to
rest on the tender flesh above her cheekbone like tiny butterflies
of beautiful reddish brown. When she opened her eyes once more,
those lovely eyes that were the color of moss and rimmed with a
shade worthy of the sun's rays stared back at him. Or so he
remembered and dreamt of often. It had been a very long time since
he'd seen the sun…felt it on his face.

"So why am I not dead?" she asked and her
voice caught in her throat on a horrified whisper.

"You still live because of who you are to
me."

She opened her mouth to say something, and he
was sure it would be to the contrary, but her lips closed firmly,
probably realizing how foolish such a denial would be. She most
definitely didn't remember him or her past life. Perhaps it was his
curse to be burdened so. His beloved thieved for a living and his
nature thrived on eliminating such talents. "If you put down your
weapon," he told her, "I will explain."

"My weapon?" She glanced at the phone as if
she just realized she still gripped it.

"Truly, such a weapon would be useless
against me," he said, speaking the truth. Her gaze riveted to his,
the gold of her eyes burning like fire. He raised his hands in
surrender. "I do not wish to harm you. On my honor, I promise, you
shall be safe this night." He could not in truth promise her more.
Her safety depended on her relinquishing the stone. He had a hunch,
his little thief wouldn't be forthcoming in handing it over, and he
had already searched her person and had rummaged through her
vehicle. He had not found the cursed item. She'd somehow managed to
hide it somewhere between the museum and here, and he meant to find
out where.

She placed the phone beside her on the
nightstand, without taking her gaze off his. "Go on, spin your
tale…
Gryphon
."

Where did one begin such a tale when she
looked upon him as if lies flew from his tongue and naught else? To
convince her otherwise would prove a challenge at best.

"Well?" Her tone indicated she was losing
patience as the seconds ticked by. He must make his case now or
forfeit the chance.

"You were my soul mate in another life," he
blurted out and wondered at his lack of finesse.

She harrumphed. "No such thing, but please go
on. Like most, I enjoy a good fairytale."

He chose to ignore her sarcasm. He could not
change her mind on what she believed, but perhaps if he told her
the story,
their
story, she would at least consider his
side. "Our love was thwarted by Isa, a jealous woman who believed I
cared for her when I had not given her such attention."

"I just bet," she murmured.

"I love you, Callista." He could not keep the
hurt from his voice. "My love is true and always has been, but you
mock it." For a moment, their eyes met and maybe she witnessed the
truth in his gaze for she lost her hostile stance.

"I'm sorry," she told him and he believed she
meant it. "I have no right to belittle your feelings for someone
you care about."

After a pause, he nodded. "Apology accepted."
He could not force her to remember their affection and did not
correct her. He didn't just love
someone
. He loved her.

"But you must understand," she began as if
she read his mind, "that I am not this Callista. I don't remember
you or the love you claim we shared. I'm Calli Marie Angelis. Calli
is not short for Callista and never has been."

His gaze swept over her lovely features he
remembered so well, and yet, there were differences too.
Determination and spunk lit the features when Callista had not a
temper at all, but she could be fierce if pushed, and perhaps in
this, Calli and his beloved shared the trait. "Do you not feel
anything for me?" he asked. "No spark at all of remembrance?"

"Great choice of words, Gryphon. Other than
the jolt earlier when you touched me, no."

He lifted his hand and stared at his palm.
Why had their first touch been so explosive?

"I don't remember you." Her voice drew his
attention and he let his arm fall to his side. "I'm sorry, but I
don't," she continued to insist. He wondered if it was for her
benefit or his.