The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series (14 page)

“I don’t know.” Marcus suddenly looks tired and sad at the same time.

Guilt starts pulling at me.
I can’t worry about him
. Getting to the root of Lucy’s problem is my priority.

Marcus’s tone turns to a whisper as if he’s talking to himself. “I wish I knew when Garret plans to move. We’ve got Jude’s power on our side. Killing the demon won’t be easy.”

It takes effort to restrain myself. Kill Jude? This is great news! But…that doesn’t make sense. Lucy seemed so sad. And Marcus looks ready to explode. What am I missing?

Marcus nods at me, his gaze turning fierce. “If you want to help, figure out a way to keep Lucy alive.” He turns on his heel, climbs into his car, and peels out of the parking lot, fishtailing on the wet pavement.

I stare after him, ignoring the rain. Lucy’s life is in danger again. Still? First Seamus. Now Garret. Who’s Garret anyway? Does this have something to do with Jude?

Who am I kidding? It always has something to do with Jude. The question eating at me is…why is Lucy keeping this from me?

Chapter Nineteen

Lucy Walker

The smell of coffee fills the kitchen. It’s a happy smell. A comfortable, snuggly smell. I kiss my uncles goodbye, ignoring their silly smiles.

“Tell Dylan hello for us,” Sheldon calls after me as I head out the door for another day of demon training.

It’s odd for Dylan to miss an opportunity to brown nose my uncles in person, but his text said to meet him outside. I want to tell him Marcus has a sister and we’re going to meet her tomorrow night—something that scares and excites me—but that’s difficult since I haven’t said a word about Camille and Garret.

I slept with my fingers curled around the feather tucked under my pillow, praying Selima isn’t here to hurt Marcus or take him away.

As soon as I climb into his car, Dylan shifts gears, an angry grinding sound, and speeds off down the street.

“Hey, chill out!” I grip the dashboard and my door handle. “You’re going to upset my uncles.”

“So, you’re going to die?” His face twists. “What was it you said? Oh, yeah. ‘
Dylan, don’t worry. Nothing’s going on
.’ Isn’t that the load of crap you fed me?”

I open my mouth, then close it again.

Dylan pounds the steering wheel with his fist. “Do I matter to you at all? Or is this your way of keeping me out of the way? Reminding me how useless I was last time?”

He’s driving too fast. It’s scaring me. “You weren’t useless. How…how did you find out?”

“Does it matter?” he yells. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you the one who hates secrets?”

I’ve never seen him this angry.

Dylan throws a determined look my way. “We need to have a sit-down with Jude today. Screw his stupid lunch, bonding like we’re some kind of freaky-happy demon family. Let’s tell him about this, so we can take action. Save you.”

“No!” I grab his arm. “You don’t understand. If we tell Jude, he’ll kill Garret.”

Dylan shakes off my hand. “So what? I’ll take Garret’s death over yours.”

“Garret’s important. He’s a protector, like Marcus. And he’s Marcus’s father.” I nearly gag on the words.

Dylan’s eyeballs look as if they’re going to pop out of his head. “I don’t care who he is. Why’s he planning to kill you anyway?”

I slide low in my seat. “You have your facts wrong.” I almost ask again where he got his information, but I’m afraid he’ll rip my head off. “When a demon dies, his descendants die right along with him.”

All anger slips from his face. “He’s after Jude.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And if you tell Jude, he might attack first. And Garret has a lot of backup.”

“Why? I mean, how does it work? Is there any way around it?” Dylan’s frantic gaze bounces between the road and me.

“Henry says that when Jude dies, fifty-percent of the DNA I inherited from him immediately goes poof. It literally dissolves. Then I’ll die.”

I flinch when Dylan punches the steering wheel again, harder this time. It’s not going to withstand much more from his fists.

“This is a load of crap!”

“It’s not just me I’m worried about,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?” Dylan glares at me for a second before returning his attention to the road.

“The deal your dad made with Jude all those years ago. He drank a goblet of Jude’s blood. You carry some of Jude’s genes, too.”

“My parents are my parents.” Dylan glowers. “I may have a very small amount of Jude’s genetics inside of me, but not enough to kill me if he dies. Not like you. Dammit!” Dylan whacks the dashboard this time.

I reach for his arm, but stop myself. With his demon genes expressing themselves, he’s unpredictable. He could lash out and punch me. “Dylan…you need to hold it together. You can’t let on that anything’s wrong.”

“Great. More pretending. Like I do with my dad, pretending everything’s fine when he’s married to the biggest social-climbing witch on the planet. And that something’s changing in me, a Tasmanian devil running loose inside, but hey—” His expression twists into a mad scientist kind of grin as he holds up jazz hands. “Look at me, everything’s JUST GREAT!”

The car in front of us isn’t moving fast enough for Dylan. He jerks the steering wheel, then stomps on the gas pedal and races around them. I nearly flop out of my seat. I get that he’s hurt I kept the Jude and Garret thing from him, but his anger has escalated too far. Is this a side effect of his demon genes coming to life?

“Maybe you should take a pass today. Drop me off and go to the gym, work this off,” I suggest with forced gentleness.

“Yeah, right. And leave you vulnerable in case this Garret guy shows up to assassinate Jude?” Dylan snorts. “No way. From now on, I’m stuck to you like glue.”

If he wasn’t acting like a psycho, I’d laugh at his play on words. Instead, I clutch the center console and my door handle and keep my mouth shut.

Once again, Jude meets us at the door, and I wonder if Darcy, Jude’s fashionista-like assistant, suffered a similar extermination like the red-eyed crows.

We eat a quick, awkward lunch, then head out the back door to the yard. I stop short when I see Jack and his two thugs—the shapeshifting Rottweilers who Jude sent to terrorize Dylan and kidnap Marcus last year. “What are they doing here?”

“Aiden couldn’t make it today,” Jude says.

“But…” Garret’s probably watching us now. Aiden is supposed to be here to help protect Jude. This doesn’t make sense. Did Jude order him away, worried Aiden and Dylan’s dislike for each other would interfere with training?

“It was my suggestion,” Dylan says behind me.

I spin around to face him. “Are you crazy?”

His face breaks into a cocky smile, a smile that contrasts with the glaring accusation in his eyes. The fury is still simmering below the surface.

“Jude told me Aiden couldn’t make it. I thought this might be…” Dylan nods at Jack, Troy, and Matt, “fun.”

I turn back to Jude, my muscles twitching. “I can’t believe you agreed to this. After everything these dirt bags did last year…” I bite my tongue. “If they hurt him, I’m done with you.”

Dylan laughs. The sound sends a chill down my spine. What’s wrong with him? Does he have a death wish? These guys are strong, and there are three of them. Dylan jogs across the huge yard to get started on today’s training.

The three creeps utter a low growl in unison, smiles of satisfaction on their faces. They act as if they’ve already won. Three against one isn’t fair. Dylan isn’t thinking straight. My stomach churns painfully. Jude won’t let this go too far will he?

It doesn’t matter. I’ll be watching them. The first hint that Dylan’s in trouble, I’ll chase the mutts off.

I glare at Jude. “Do I get to shoot fireballs at you again today?”

Jude glances across the field at Dylan, his expression thoughtful. Is he curious how this sick match is going to turn out?

“No, today is defensive work. I’m going to throw fireballs at
you.
You’re going to learn how to deflect them.”

Jude spends the next thirty minutes demonstrating various maneuvers. I check over my shoulder every time I hear someone swear or yelp. I cry out at one point as I watch Jack, Troy, and Matt circle Dylan, their teeth bared like a pack of wolves ready to attack. Heat races up and down my arms. I’m about to go help Dylan, when Jude grabs hold of my elbow.

“Let me go!” I thrash against his vice-like grip.

“Just watch.”

I hold my breath, my heartbeat pounding in my chest and my ears. Dylan crouches in a defensive position as Jack and his two friends continue to circle. The heat settles in my palms. My heartbeat pulsates through my limbs. I restrain the overwhelming urge to hurl fireballs across the yard at the three losers.

“Dylan!” I cry as Troy lunges at him from behind. Jude’s grip tightens. I consider firing off at him in order to get loose. Electrical impulses scream through my body. The urge is strong. The burning in my hands is too much. I need to hurt someone.

Jude meets my look of rage and desperation with a steely gaze. “Don’t even think about it.”

The high voltage zap he dispenses to both of my arms short-circuits my entire nervous system, causing my knees to buckle. Jude releases me, and I hit the ground.

My father just tased me? I try to stand, but the spasms in my leg muscles make it impossible. I struggle to shoot a sarcastic remark at the man towering above me, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, but my tongue fails me.

Another grunt and a cry of surprise pierce the air. I turn back to Dylan in time to see Troy lying on the ground. Jack and Matt move in from opposite sides. Dylan sinks his elbow into Matt’s midsection. Matt hunches over, gasping. Dylan reaches for Jack, grabs him by the arm, and spins around. He flips Jack over his back and slams him onto the ground with so much force the earth shivers beneath me.

Dylan scowls as he whirls around to face Matt, who is upright and swinging. Matt tries to fake Dylan out by lunging right. Matt’s fist connects with Dylan’s face. Blood spurts from Dylan’s mouth as his face jerks to the right. Matt punches Dylan again and again. Dylan stumbles to his knees, disoriented. Matt goes in for another attack.

“This is insane!” I pull my legs under my body and struggle to push my body upright. “Help me up! Call Matt off of him!”

Jude’s gaze never leaves the fight. “Your lack of faith in your partner is disappointing. If you were focusing, you would know Dylan is restraining his powers.”

No. Dylan’s going to lose this fight. Jack, Matt, and Troy had it out for Dylan last year. It’s clear they’re still out for blood. I groan and tell myself to look away, but I can’t. Instead, I crawl. Can I make it across the field and roast Matt before he kills Dylan?

Matt’s fists continue to pummel Dylan. My trembling arms barely support me as I pull my body along. My muscles quiver and seize. My face connects with the grassy earth.

Damn Jude!
Then it hits me. What did Jude just say? Focus? I aim my hands toward Matt. All of my anger and fear condense within me. I wait for the heat, for the electricity to fill me. I visualize a human fireball. Nothing comes. I focus harder, extend my arms until my muscles ache. My powers are dead. I cry out in frustration.

My stomach flips with a sickening twist as Matt is about to drive his knee into Dylan’s face. Suddenly, Dylan jumps up, tackles Matt around the midsection, and slams him into the trunk of a tree. Matt flops to the ground, gasping for air.

Jude’s feet appear in my peripheral vision. “Dylan has incredible strength.” His voice swells with pride. He pulls me to my feet. I teeter on unsteady legs. “Enough distractions. It’s time to resume your training.”

Once again I wonder how Jude’s death would affect Dylan. If Aiden were here today, I could ask him.

“Think fast.”

Before I register Jude’s words, he hurls a baseball-sized fireball, which slams against my arm. Heat sears my skin.

I clutch the burned skin as I stumble backward. “Are you insane?”

“Relax. Inspect your arm.”

I’m about to insult him on his parenting when he nods.

“Look at it.”

I hold up my arm, which doesn’t hurt as much as it did when the fireball first hit me. The deep red mark on my skin fades just a little. There’s no swelling or blisters. How is that possible?

“This can’t be real.”

“Another benefit of being a demon. You’re welcome.”

You’re welcome?
I hold my arm up to show him. “You burned my hair off, Jude,” I snap.

“Are you paying attention now?”

“You could’ve just asked the question. You didn’t need to burn me.”

Jude takes one step toward me. “Check the attitude, Lucy, or I’ll show you the kind of training I endured when I was your age. Suffice it to say I doubt you would survive.” His steely tone sounds dangerous.

Goose bumps race down my arms and legs.
He won’t really hurt me, right?

“Now that you’ve experienced what it feels like to be hit with a fireball, you want to avoid being hit by another one.” Jude holds his palm up and a fireball appears. “Think of the two D’s. Deflect or dodge.”