The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series (33 page)

“Demons and their mansions,” Selima says under her breath. “Such a cliché.”

I drum my fingers on the dashboard, afraid of what we’ll find inside. That’s when the darkness hits me. “What happened to the lights along the driveway?”

A breeze rolls through the car as Dylan rolls down his window and leans out. “Uh…guys? There’s broken glass out here.”

“It’s hard to see intruders on the security cameras in the dark,” I point out.

“Garret’s men are here,” Marcus says. “I can sense them.”

“I can, too.” Selima murmurs.

Is that fear in her voice? I swallow hard.

Marcus pulls into the spot usually reserved for Dylan. I’m relieved to see he’s twitching and shaking in the driver’s seat. That means Jude is alive. Then again, the fact that I’m still alive says something, too.

Dylan leans forward from the back seat, thumping the headrest impatiently. “Should we split up? Selima and I could go around back.”

“No.” Marcus thrusts the gearshift into park. “Let’s get inside—together—and see what we’re up against.”

We hurry to the front door. As I slide between Marcus and Selima, I notice Selima isn’t trembling at all. I shouldn’t be surprised, given that she works with demons. Will Marcus ever be immune?

I shove myself to the front of the pack. Heat races down my arms, then settles in my palms. The energy coursing through my body throbs painfully. Dylan puts a hand out to stop me as he lowers his shoulder, positioning himself to ram the door. He thrusts his body against the steel door with such force, it breaks free of its hinges and slams into the opposite wall. The sound is as loud as a thunderclap and I wince. He may as well have telecast our arrival.

Dylan glances over his shoulder at Selima. “You mentioned the plan. What exactly is your father’s plan?”

Selima levels her gaze at him. “To create a race superior to all other supernaturals.”

What would happen if that day came? I shiver at the horror.

The four of us pause in the foyer. I close my eyes and focus. My mind crawls along the hallways to Jude’s office. It’s empty. Then I move onto the kitchen and dining room. Again nothing. Same thing with the living room and family room. I push my mind further to the backyard.

Where is he? He has to be here somewhere.

In my continued training with my father, I’ve come to learn he has the ability to close his mind to me. When he wants to communicate mentally with me, he can. Otherwise, he locks me out and becomes invisible.

“What is she doing?” Selima asks.

“She can detect those she’s connected with,” Dylan says. “Jude, me, the ravens.”

That’s not entirely true. Since Persephone cast her spell over Dylan and me, our connection is gone. I’m sure Dylan knows that.

“Ravens?” Selima asks.

“Anything?” Marcus asks, ignoring Selima.

I shake my head.

“They can’t hide their auras from me,” Marcus says. “They’re here. Several of them.”

“I see them, too,” Selima says, her gaze traveling down the hall.

Dylan scowls. “What are we waiting for? Let’s search the house.”

Lucy!

I stumble backward and gasp as Jude’s voice fills my head.

“What is it?” Marcus grabs my arm.

“Jude.” I squeeze my eyes closed and focus harder.

Leave now
! I flinch as my father’s voice booms in my head.
It’s too dangerous for you here!

I relay his message.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Dylan says. “Not with a team of nutjobs here to kill him.”

His words linger in the air. None of us add the second part of that statement.

“They’re out back. Let’s go,” I tell them, rushing down the hall.

Marcus and Selima skid to a stop outside of Jude’s office.

“The auras are pretty dense behind these doors,” Marcus says to his sister.

“They spent a lot of time in there. They…” Selima’s voice trails off, her face turning ashen.

“They what?” I ask.

“Cut the protector telepathy crap,” Dylan snaps. “Spill it.”

“The color, smell, and density of an aura is affected by emotion,” Selima says haltingly. “There was a lot of rage here.”

I push past the two of them, Dylan close behind me.

“Lucy…wait!” Marcus grabs my arm. I shake him off.

I throw open the doors. Panic zigzags inside of me as I take in the state of Jude’s office.

“No…”

Bookcases are tipped and books, shredded to bits, cover the floor like snow. Jude’s desk is split in two. The computer and security monitors lay shattered on the floor.

Dylan touches my hand. It’s the first sign of tenderness he’s shown me in a long time. “Outside,” he says.

The four of us reach the back door in a matter of seconds. My heart pounds in my chest; adrenaline floods my veins. I’m ready for a fight.

“Leave Garret to me,” Selima says.

Marcus starts to protest.

“He won’t hurt me,” she says.

“Are you ready for this?” Dylan asks me.

“This is what we’ve trained for,” I tell him, pushing open the back door.

All four of us stop cold.

To our left, Jude hurls fireballs in quick succession, fending off three approaching protectors.

“Max’s here.” Marcus points to the right where two demons hurl fireballs at a group of men I assume are more of Garret’s soldiers.

The taller of the two demons clenches his head with both hands and drops to his knees. The shorter one swipes his hand through the air, and a protector loses his balance and slams onto the ground. The taller demon pushes himself upright then hurls a fireball at the offending protector, engulfing him in a ball of flame. I look away.

In the middle of the football field sized yard, two bodies lie immobile, consumed by flames. I choke on the stench of burning flesh as I charge toward Jude.

“Lucy, wait!” Marcus calls after me.

“Marcus, go with Selima. We’ve got Jude,” Dylan yells over his shoulder as he runs after me.

My ear catches a sharp
thawunk
behind me, followed by another. Marcus and Selima have changed form. Are they prepared to battle their own kind?

Dammit, Lucy. I don’t want you here!
Jude’s voice blasts through my skull, rattling my teeth.

White-hot energy zooms across all of my nerve endings at once.
I’m here to keep us both alive!
I respond, not sure if he received my telepathic message.

With a sweep of Jude’s hand, one protector’s legs fly out from beneath him and he slams onto the ground. Dylan grabs the second protector from behind in a chokehold. I conjure a fireball in each hand and hurl them in quick succession at another protector about to charge Jude, his hands sporting razorblade-like talons. The protector dodges both fireballs and continues toward Jude. I conjure another fireball and am about to hurl it when the protector collides with an invisible wall.

“Oomph!” He grunts, his face squishing as if connecting with something hard. There’s a cacophony of crunches as his fingers smash against the invisible blockade. Blood oozes from his flattened nose, and shattered teeth splinter from his mouth as he slumps to the ground.

Jude and I look at each other baffled. What just happened? Then it hits me. The protection spell Persephone and I cast on Jude. The impenetrable wall. Could that be it? I only assisted Persephone, but I suddenly feel like there’s hope for me as a witch after all.

The protector in Dylan’s grasp falls slack. His gurgling noises fade away. Dylan releases him, and the lifeless body slides to the ground. As Dylan turns away, the body bounds upright.

“Dylan,” I scream. The protector faked Dylan out. I rush to close the distance between us, conjuring a fireball and hurling it quickly. Then another. But it’s too late. The protector pulls Dylan against his chest and sinks his teeth into Dylan’s throat.

I smack the air forcefully, and the protector’s head jerks back, a trail of bloody saliva flying through the air. I hurl three fireballs in quick succession. Two of them land on target, and the protector screams as he turns into a writhing ball of flame.

The third protector eyeballs Jude and me. I glance over my shoulder as Jude wrenches his hands in a violent gesture. A wet snap fills the air, and the protector drops to the ground. His head is twisted at a sickening angle. I swallow past the bile rising in my throat and focus on Dylan, whose breathing has turned shallow and erratic. His eyes glaze out of focus and he teeters.

“Dylan?” I reach out to catch him as his knees buckle.

“Jude!” I cry out.

Jude reaches my side in an instant. “The gargoyle bit him in the jugular.” He tears Dylan’s shirt away to study the wound. Blood pulses out of Dylan’s neck at a sickening rate.

“How do we stop it?” I ask.

Jude takes Dylan’s shredded shirt and presses it against the gash. His eyes, black and fierce, fix on me. “Get your gargoyle over here now!”

Adrenaline fuels me as I sprint across the massive yard. Marcus and Selima battle the two remaining protectors.

“Marcus,” I yell. “Dylan’s been hurt. We need you!”

Marcus cranes his neck in my direction, and one of the protector’s lunges at him, slashing his chest.

“No!” I cry out.

Before Marcus can retaliate, Selima jumps into the air, her feet climbing invisible stairs and then connecting with the protector’s face. I hear a series of crunching sounds as his nose and left cheekbone collapse beneath the force. Blood spurts from his face, temporarily blinding him.

The protector chokes and gurgles on blood and snot. Another wet snap rings out. The protector collapses onto the ground, silent. I glance across the field at Jude, whose fists are twisted in the air. He’s killed another protector.

I pull on Marcus’s arm, aware that he’s bleeding now, too.

“I’ve got this. Go!” Selima pushes her brother away.

Blood streams from his chest wound. Marcus has healing powers, but can he heal himself?

We reach Dylan and Jude.

“It’s the external jugular; otherwise, he’d be dead already,” Jude says. He removes the blood soaked shirt from Dylan’s neck.

Marcus crouches beside Dylan’s unconscious body. I watch in horror as Marcus tears at his own flesh, opening a wound at his wrist. This is what Dylan witnessed the night of the homecoming dance. The night Marcus saved my life for the third time.

My stomach flip-flops nauseously. Jude wipes the fresh blood away from Dylan’s throat then holds Dylan’s head firmly to the side, while Marcus applies his own blood to Dylan’s wound. After several applications of protector blood, Dylan’s wound appears to cauterize itself.

“How is that possible?” I sputter. “Wait…what are you doing?”

Jude’s fierce glare stops me as Marcus holds his bloody wrist to Dylan’s mouth.

“I need you to drink, Dylan,” Jude orders. “This is going to save your life, son.”

I doubt Dylan can hear Jude in his unconscious state, but he starts sucking the blood from Marcus’s wrist anyway. Maybe it’s a demon order Dylan can’t refuse?

I whirl around as footsteps approach from behind. Selima. Max and the other demon follow, but in less of a hurry.

“How’s he doing?” Selima nods at Dylan.

I glance past her, across the length of the lawn, and notice no one is left standing. The yard is littered with lifeless bodies.

Selima shoves past me. “Marcus, let me take over.”

Marcus pulls his wrist from Dylan’s mouth. Like a hungry infant, Dylan’s lips continue to suck at the air.

Selima tears at her wrist and presses it against Dylan’s demanding lips. “I never saw Garret, but his aura was all over inside the house,” she says.

“After the battle in the office, he took off.”

We all look up at Max, whose flaming red hair is cut short and spiky. He’s the shorter of the two demons.

“It’s a good thing, too, because he would’ve freaked seeing his warriors bouncing off of Jude like he was surrounded by some kind of force field.” He grins.

“Yes, I found that curious,” Jude says.

I peek up at him to find him staring at me intently. Does he know Persephone and I put a protection spell on him?

“Lucy, that’s Max, Aiden’s friend,” Marcus says, his chin lowered as he inspects his chest wound.

Max throws his head back and laughs. A sound I find completely inappropriate given Dylan’s condition. “I would use the word friend loosely where Aiden is concerned.”

Selima and I both take in the giant, bald demon towering over Max. He appears to be almost seven feet tall and broader than a truck.

“This is Warrick.” Max jerks his thumb toward his sidekick.

“I’m going to search the house. Make sure no one’s lurking,” Warrick says in a gravelly low voice.

Neither demon seems shocked over the healing going on. Have they seen this before? Or maybe horrific and gross are normal for them?