Apprentices
Written by Donald E. Fleming II
Story concept by Donald E. Fleming II
Disclaimer: All Gargoyles characters are the property of Disney and Buena Vista Studios and are being used without their consent or permission. Other Gargoyle characters are the property of The Gargoyle Saga (TGS) writing staff and also are being used without their permission. The character of Don Michael Taylor is my creation. I am receiving no reward for this story other than the satisfaction of being able to share it with others as it is intended solely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of Gargoyle fandom everywhere.
October 7, 1999Manhattan
There are times I wish I could have gotten away with unleashing that damned virus, Dominique Destine thought ruefully from the back of her limousine. If I had, at least I wouldn't be stuck in traffic now.
Dominique looked at her watch, fuming at the lousy timing. Why did that main have to break now? she wondered. A water main had burst, sending torrents of water into the air, flooding the street ahead and effectively bringing traffic to a standstill. And it was less than an hour until sunset. I'll never make it back to the house in time. She sat back and sighed, wondering how her chauffeur was going to react when she changed into a gargoyle right there in the back seat. I hope I don't have to kill him, she thought.
A motorcycle pulled up alongside the limousine. She didn't even give it a glance until the rider leaned over and tapped on the right side window.
"What do you want?" she snarled as she lowered the window.
"Cross-town traffic's a bitch, isn't it," he said and Dominique's face lit up when she realized who it was.
"Don," she said, suddenly feeling immensely better. "I didn't realize it was you."
"I guess not, considering the greeting," he said as he pulled off his helmet. He looked at the street ahead. "Somehow I don't think this is going to be cleared up before nightfall. Can I interest you in a ride?"
She felt the limousine shift and then saw her chauffeur approaching him. "Ms. Destine isn't interested…"
"It's all right, Gregory," she said quickly. "Mr. Taylor is a friend." And more, she thought as she picked up her briefcase. She got out of the limousine and stepped over to Don's side. "I must say that your timing is impeccable."
"Some might consider it that," he said. "Others might not think so."
Dominique knew he was referring to his ill-timed return through the Phoenix Gate that had almost brought an end to Elisa and Goliath's relationship. But in the end, everything turned out okay. Elisa and Goliath were back together, while she and Don...
Even after nearly two weeks, Dominique found it hard to believe that she had found happiness in the arms of a human. There were times when she was lying in bed with Don that she was tempted to pinch herself just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. After a thousand years of trying to destroy the human race, who would have thought I would end up falling in love with one of them?
Don set the kickstand of his motorcycle and got off, then took a quick stroll down the street to see if he could find a shortcut out of the jam. He came back several minutes later.
"Man, it's really packed," he said, looking back the way he came. "And I thought rush-hours in Chicago were bad." He turned his attention back to Dominique. "So, do you need a ride?"
Dominique looked at the motorcycle, unsure of whether or not she should take him up on his offer. It sounds like fun, she thought. But how safe is it? She really didn't like the idea of getting her neck broken if Don got into an accident with her riding. "I don't know," she said. "Do you think it'd be safe with the two of us..."
"Of course," he said. "Elisa and I used to go riding together all the time when she and I were together, and she's still in one piece." He knew it probably wasn't a good idea to remind her about his past relationship with Elisa, someone she used to hate and tried on more than one occasion to kill, but he wanted to put her mind at ease about the bike. "Trust me. It'll be perfectly safe."
Dominique chewed on her knuckle, trying to reach a decision. His next words decided it for her.
"Besides, I could definitely get you home before sundown," he said.
She looked towards the west, and saw that the sun was steadily creeping towards the horizon. I don't have much of a choice, do I? she thought. "Very well," she said. "But mind you, please be careful. I don't want to end up in the emergency room."
"Don't worry," Don said. "You'll be perfectly safe with me."
"I'm going to hold you to that," she said as Don took the briefcase from her and placed it in one of the motorcycle's saddlebags. She then turned her attention to her chauffeur. "I won't be needing your services anymore tonight, Gregory," she said. "When this mess finally clears up, you can head on home and I will see you in the morning."
"Of course, Ms. Destine," he said.
Don had his leather jacket in his hand as she turned back towards him. "What's this for?" she asked, after forcing herself to pull her attention away from his muscular arms.
"Well, I know how much you like this particular ensemble," he said, fingering the collar of her suit jacket. "I'd hate to see it get ruined if we do end up taking a spill." He paused then, smiling at her. "Not that it'll happen, of course," he quickly added.
"Of course," she quipped. She took the leather jacket and put it on over her own, enjoying for the briefest of moments the smell of the leather, which was mingled with his own unique scent.
Don then led her to the motorcycle and picked up his helmet, offering it to her. Dominique looked at it hesitantly, then took it and put it on, knowing that Don was only looking out for her well being. Not that I really need it, of course, she thought, but it would nonetheless protect her from injury just in case, and it also served as a suitable disguise. No one was going to recognize her like this, she thought. Especially those vultures from the 'Tattler'. After the helmet was in place, Don got onto the motorcycle and turned it on, waiting until Dominique had sufficiently positioned herself on the seat behind him and had her arms wrapped tightly around him before taking off, the helmet and the roar of the engine effectively drowning out the scream of terror that escaped her lips as the motorcycle accelerated down the street.
Destine ManorIt was close to sunset when Don and Dominique arrived at the front gate of Destine Manor. Leaning over to one side, Dominique quickly punched in the access code that opened the gate and Don eased the motorcycle inside.
It had been a rather fast and furious ride to the manor, and Dominique had wondered more than once if they were going to make it there alive. But once Don had the motorcycle in motion, it became very clear that he really did know what he was doing. He may ride like a maniac, she thought, but at least he was a careful maniac. And she did note that the ride hadn't been that unpleasant. In fact, it had been exciting, and once she relaxed and began enjoying the ride, she became aware of something else. The rumble of the engine had begun a slight tingling between her thighs.
Don stopped the motorcycle outside the front door of the manor and shut it off, then helped Dominique off the bike before setting the kickstand and getting off himself.
Dominique took off the helmet, accidentally loosening the carefully styled bun that she usually wore, and her flame-red tresses cascaded down her back as she handed the helmet back to Don. As Don turned to put the helmet on the seat, she quickly wrapped her arms around him, giggling as she rested her head against his shoulders.
"Uh, huh," he said, turning his head to try and look at her. "Do you think we have enough time?"
"By the Dragon, I hope so," she said. "That is, if we hurry." Grinning madly, she pulled away from him and bolted up the stairs. Smiling, Don quickly chased after her.
Dominique lost a little time, and her head start, as she fumbled with the key, trying to get the door open, and Don used that opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist and lift her slightly in the air. She squealed as she felt her feet leave the ground.
"Don, not now!" she cried out, even though she was enjoying his playfulness. "Not yet! Let me get the door open first!"
He set her back down on her feet, still keeping his arm around her slender waist though, and Dominique quickly shoved the key in the lock and turned it as he began nuzzling at her neck. As soon as the door was open, Don picked her up again and carried her inside, using his foot to kick it closed after they were across the threshold.
Once they were inside, Dominique quickly shed the leather jacket, then fumbled with the buttons of her suit jacket in a desperate attempt to get it off, partly because she didn't want it ruined when the transformation hit, but mostly because of another reason entirely. She was fully aroused now, and she was anxious for the feel of him inside her.
She finally got the suit jacket off, and quickly tossed it aside as Don wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her deeply as his hands sought out the zipper on the back of her skirt. He found it quickly enough and unzipped it, then Dominique kicked it aside after she felt it pool about her ankles. When that was done, she reached down and pulled off her shoes.
Don's fingers went to the buttons of her blouse, but she quickly captured them and pulled them away. "No time," she said huskily as she threw her own arms around his neck. She pulled herself up and locked her lips to his, kissing him hungrily as she felt his arms go around her waist. "Besides," she added through the kiss. "I've got more than enough blouses as it is."
Don wasn't about to argue with her, and he moved his lips to the base of her ear, nibbling at the lobe and eliciting a moan from his changeling lover as his hands slipped around her waist, heading for the waistband of her panties.
But then...
The moan lengthened into a cry of agony, and Don felt Dominique's body stiffen as she tried desperately to suppress a scream. She failed, and Don tightened his grip on her as her body shifted and convulsed in his arms.
Dominique's skin changed from pink to azure-blue within the space of a second, and Don was unable to do anything but watch and hold onto her as the human Dominique Destine disappeared for another night and the gargoyle known as Demona took her place.
Not now! she thought desperately, wishing frantically that she could will the change to stop, but that was denied her. She tossed her head back and screamed as she felt her body shift and change, the last two fingers of her hands merging into one, her feet lengthening radically as they tore through the nylons she wore, and finally her tail and then her wings emerging from her body, ripping through the fabric of her panties and her blouse.
She sagged against Don's chest after the change ended, her hands clutching meekly at his shirt as she panted in exhaustion, and she was aware of Don's hand stroking her hair.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he said softly, wishing for all the world that he could spare her the pain that went with her nightly change. "I've got you."
"Thank you, Don," she said after a moment's hesitation. She slowly pulled back from him and looked into his eyes, seeing the concern in his gaze. "I'll be okay now." Pausing for a moment in order to touch his cheek with the back of her hand, Demona turned and headed for the stairs.
Don watched as his gargoyle lover retreated from him. He sighed, knowing the reason for her action. She needs some time alone, he thought. The transformation always left her feeling weak and vulnerable, and she hated it, not to mention the fact that it messed with their love life. Except for that first night together, they had never engaged in intercourse so close to sunrise or sunset, for obvious reasons. Don absently rubbed his shoulder, where six new scars had been added.
Demona pulled off her ruined garments and tossed them aside before finding her usual 'evening' wear and putting it on. As she did, she paused as she looked in the mirror.
How could you be so irresponsible? she berated herself. You remember what happened the last time. Her mind drifted back, remembering with uncanny clarity, the morning after she and Don made love for the first time...
September 26, 1999Dominique slept through most of the following morning, awakening only for a brief moment as she felt Don shift under her in order to move her off of him, then she tried to drift back to sleep, smiling as she began to think about their possible future together.
Hmmm, she thought to herself. Maybe I should call in sick next week, and spend the week here. I've never treated myself to a vacation, and it's high time I took one. And spending it with Don would make for a perfect getaway. She smiled at the thought and began to roll over in order to call him back to bed.
Her hand encountered something wet and sticky on the pillows next to hers as she rolled over. That was when her nostrils picked up the scent of blood. Human blood. Her eyes snapped open and she bolted up in the bed as she saw a small pool of it on the bed beside her.
"Don!" she called out. Oh, God! What did I do to him? She dimly remembered her talons tearing into his flesh as the change took hold of her, but Don hadn't given her any indication that he had been seriously hurt. She jumped off the bed and raced to the bathroom door, fearful that she was going to find him lying there lifeless in a pool of his own blood.
She jerked the door open, then gasped as she saw Don leaning over the sink, his back streaked with crimson. The bleeding appeared to have slowed, but it hadn't stopped.
"By the Dragon!" she said. "Don, why didn't you say anything?"
"Didn't want you to worry," he said. "Besides, I told you I've been hurt before. It's not like I'm going to..."
"You very well could have this time," Dominique snapped. She grabbed a damp washcloth and began wiping away the blood. She grimaced as she found six deep slashes on his back, three over each shoulder blade. "As a gargoyle, I am very capable of ripping through solid steel with my talons! Human flesh is frightening easy compared to that!" She quickly looked around the bathroom, searching for a first aid kit. "Do you have..."
"It's under the sink," he said.
Dominique found the first aid kit under the sink and then took Don by the arm, leading him out of the bathroom and back towards the bed. She removed the bloody linen and had him lay down on his stomach, then climbed onto the bed and knelt beside him, setting the kit next to her and quickly opening it. As she pulled out several sterile pads, she looked at the slashes her talons had left on his shoulders.
I can't afford to let this happen ever again, she told herself.
Present day
Destine Manor
But you almost did, didn't you, she thought bitterly. You almost let your hormones get the better of you. You're just lucky you didn't hurt him this time.
The next few hours had melted into a blur, but she knew what happened next. She had stitched up the slashes, using a suture set she had found in the military-style first aid kit, then she placed the sterile pads over that to cover the wounds. Eventually, she headed back home, waiting anxiously until nightfall so that she could glide there and return with the necessary items to do a proper healing spell, but several times during the seemingly endless day, she almost called Elisa to tell her what had happened, and ask her for help. Fortunately, it hadn't come to that, and she was able to repair the damage she had done, but still she had come too close to losing him that day...
Demona picked up a brush, wanting to smash the mirror in order to shatter the image of her own accusing glare, but then she heard a knock on the bedroom door. She set the brush down and went to answer it.
"Yes," she asked, opening the door and finding Don standing there.
"Is everything okay?" he asked. "I was wondering what was taking you so long to come back down."
"I...had a few things to think about," she told him. She reached out and touched his shoulder lightly. "I didn't..." she started to ask hesitantly.
Don looked at the sleeve of his shirt. Demona's talons had penetrated the fabric during her change, but luckily, she hadn't damaged the skin underneath. "No, not this time," he said. "Is that why you haven't come back down? You were worried..."
"Yes," she said. "I remember what happened the last time."
"Well, no harm done this time," he said. He reached out and gave her arms a gentle squeeze. "Besides, I know you'd never deliberately try to hurt me."
"No, I wouldn't," she said.
Don pulled her close and gave her a long hug, and Demona found herself relaxing in his arms. "Listen," he said. "I'll be waiting downstairs. I've got something to tell you."
"Okay," Demona said, taking a step back. Is something wrong? she wondered. She looked into his eyes, trying to see if there was any indication of a problem there, but she couldn't tell.
"Don't worry," he says with a hint of a smile. "It's nothing like that."
Demona let out a sigh of relief. "You had me worried for a second," she said. "Can't you tell me now?"
"Downstairs," he said. "When you're ready."
"All right then," she said. She watched as Don turned and headed for the stairs before stepping back into the bedroom and closing the door.
Now what could he be wanting to tell me? she wondered.
Don was standing by the couch as she came downstairs, a Brandy snifter in his hand and she could see a second one on the coffee table. He looked over at her as she reached the bottom and stepped over to take her hand. "My dear," he said as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles gently. Then he led her over to the couch and handed her the second glass as she sat down.
"So what are our plans for tonight?" he asked her as he sat down next to her.
"Not too much, I'm afraid," Demona said. "Angela and Broadway are supposed to come over in a little while. I haven't really spoken to her since we...well..." She blushed slightly as she looked at him.
"How did she take the news?" Don asked.
"What news?" she asked.
"That you and I are seeing one another," he said.
If it was possible, Demona blushed even brighter. "I...haven't told her," she said.
"Why not?" he asked, setting down the snifter.
"I wanted to keep it a secret for a while," she said. "I didn't want to get her hopes up in case things didn't work out between us." She took a small drink of the Brandy as she turned slightly away from him.
Don moved closer and touched her shoulder lightly. "And have they?"
Demona turned to look at him, a hint of surprise on her face. "You know they have. Don, you're the first person...no, the first human...who's made me this happy in a long time. I just...I wanted to make sure about where this was going to lead to before I broke the news to everyone."
"So, no one knows?" he asked.
"Well," she said sheepishly. "Candice knows, but I think she's keeping this quiet at work." She paused as she looked at him. "And Elisa knows."
"You told Elisa?"
"I told her the night I came to you," she said. "I...needed some advice. On how to...approach you."
"I wondered why my ears were burning that night," he said. Demona smiled as she caught the hint of playfulness in his voice. At least he's not upset that I've kept this a secret from the others.
"So, Angela and Broadway are coming over," he said. "For..."
"Dinner," Demona said. "Broadway hasn't cooked for me in a while and he's feeling a little guilty about it."
"I guess he's wanting to stay on his mother-in-law's good side," Don quipped. "Especially after the snafu he got himself into a few months ago."
"Yes," she said, smiling. "He's promised to give me a special treat tonight."
"Oh, that reminds me," Don said quickly, reaching into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small velvet pouch and passed it to her. "This is for you."
"What is it?" Demona asked, curious.
"Open it and find out," Don returned.
Demona smiled as she set down the Brandy snifter, then opened the pouch and dumped the contents into the palm of her hand. It was a pendant; a small pewter dragon with its tail wrapped around a crystal dangling from the chain. Demona looked at the tiny dragon and smiled.
"Don, it's adorable," she said. She handed it back to him, then turned around and lifted her hair so he could place it around her neck. Once the pendant was in place, she moved across the couch so she could study it by the lamplight. "Wherever did you find this?"
"I stumbled across a small fantasy shop out on Long Island last week," he said. "When I saw that, I thought about you. I hope you like it."
"I love it," she said as she moved close and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Even though it doesn't have any magical qualities inherent in the crystal, it is still a wonderful gift." She toyed with the tiny dragon before letting it settle against her skin.
"Are you sure about that?" Don asked. "About there not being any magic in it?"
"I would be able to sense it if there were," she said. "You could too, if you would start developing your abilities." More than anything, Demona wished that Don would agree to begin training in the use of his powers. He has such great potential, she thought. It would be a shame if he let it wither to nothing.
"Actually," Don said, looking over to her. "I have been giving that a lot of thought lately."
This caught Demona's attention, and she wondered if this was what he wanted to talk to her about. "You have?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I decided to...take you up on your offer. Of having you teach me how to use my powers."
Demona smiled broadly, and she quickly moved across the couch and hugged him. "That's wonderful, Don," she said. "You have no idea how happy this makes me." She paused as soon as she said that, realizing that it might have been the wrong thing to say, but then she continued. "What made you change your mind?"
"Well, we have been together for the better part of two weeks," he said. "And I thought if we do decide to stay together, we should at least be on more equal terms in our relationship. Magic included."
Demona smiled again, and she wrapped her arms around her neck as she straddled his hips, giving him a quick kiss. "I promise that you won't regret it," she said.
Don looked up at her and smiled. "Of course," he said, pausing as he began running his hand lightly along her waist. "There should be some sort of...incentive...to keep me interested in my studies."
Demona's raised her eyebrow. "Oh," she said, questioningly. "And what sort of 'incentive' did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know," Don said. "Maybe something like this." He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers briefly. "Or this." Then he moved his mouth to the side of her neck, kissing her there. "Or maybe even this." He began nibbling at her ear lobe.
Demona groaned in response as his lips worked their magic on her. She began moving slightly against him as his hands began to move along her spine. "I think...we can come to...some sort of...arrangement," she said breathlessly.
"I thought that'd be your answer," Don said teasingly. He moved his lips to hers again and kissed her deeply. Within seconds, all she was aware of was Don's lips against hers and his hands moving up along her back, heading for the wing joints.
She didn't even register the sound of the balcony door open, until she heard a startled gasp.
"Mother!"
Demona quickly jumped away from Don, gasping as she leapt off the couch and turned to see Angela standing by the open balcony doors. Don jumped up as well, turning away from them as if he were trying to hide something, which he was.
"Angela, what are you doing here?" Demona asked. When she saw her daughter blush slightly, she realized that her clothes were slightly askew and she quickly turned around in order to straighten them.
"Did you forget?" Angela said. "We were going to have dinner tonight. The three of us. You, me and Broadway."
"I...hadn't forgotten," Demona said as she turned back to face her. "I just..." She paused as she looked at Don. "I didn't expect you to show up quite so soon."
"I guess not," she said. She spotted the Brandy snifters on the table and frowned at Don. "Demona, what is going on? Why..."
"Where's Broadway?" Demona said quickly.
"He said he forgot something back at the castle," Angela said. "He should be along in a little bit." Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Don again. "Mother..."
Demona quickly turned to Don, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Don, why don't you go into the kitchen and start getting things set up for when Broadway gets here. I need a few moments alone with my daughter."
"Okay, sweetheart," he said. He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek before turning and heading down the hallway.
"Angela," Demona said, motioning towards the open balcony doors. "If you would..."
Angela stepped outside, then turned as she watched Demona cross the balcony and lean against the railing.
"Okay, Mother," Angela said. "What is going on?"
Demona turned and looked at her. "Angela, do I really need to answer that question?" She smiled. "I think that it would be rather obvious what is going on."
Angela looked back through the doors. "I just..." She turned back towards Demona. "I want to hear it from you. I want to make sure that this isn't some crazy hallucination or something."
"It isn't," Demona said. "Don and I, we've become...lovers."
Angela's eyes went wide. "He got you drunk again, didn't he?"
Demona snorted at that. "What is it with you and Detective Maza anyway?" she said. "Why is it the two of you find it so hard to believe me when I tell you that I am not drunk. I happen to be very much in love. I would think that you of all people would be happy for me."
Angela looked at her. "You're serious!"
Demona smiled widely. "I am."
Angela smiled happily and rushed over to her mother, hugging her tightly. "Mother, that's wonderful!" she said after stepping back slightly.
"I take it you're happy then," she said.
"Oh Mother, I am," Angela said. "Although, I never pictured you falling for a human. And Don no less."
"Stranger things have happened in my lifetime, Angela," Demona said. "You should know that by now."
Angela stepped back slightly. "How long has this been going on?" she asked.
"Almost two weeks," she said. "Since the night of that bad storm."
"Two weeks," Angela gasped. "And you haven't told anyone? Not even Father?"
"I didn't want to get everyone's hopes up just in case," Demona said. "Especially yours. I know how hard you've been trying to get me to accept humanity and all..."
"I guess you have," Angela quipped, smiling, which faded slightly as she caught the look on her mother's face.
"You have to understand, Angela," Demona said. "Despite the fact that I have taken a human for a lover, I am still a long way from truly accepting them. You will note that I am referring to Don as a lover, not a mate. I...don't know if...or when, I'll be able to look at him in the same light as your father views Detective Maza."
"But it's a start," Angela said. She reached out and took her mother's hands in her own, squeezing them tightly. "And it's a good one." She paused as she hugged her mother. "You will tell the rest of the clan, won't you? I know that Father will be thrilled..."
"Not yet," Demona said. "And I want you to promise me that you won't breathe a word of this to any of them."
"But Mother..." Angela started, but Demona brought up her finger, silencing her.
"Not a word, Angela," she said, then she smiled. "I want it to be a surprise. Especially for your father. I want to savor the look of surprise on his face when I tell him."
"Oh, Mother," Angela said, finding it hard to suppress the smile as she realized what Demona had in mind. "You are terrible."
Demona couldn't help but smile herself. "Do I have your word?"
"Okay, Mother," she said. "I promise I won't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone what?" Broadway asked as he dropped in on them. Demona looked at Angela's mate as he looked at them in bewilderment. "Did I miss something?"
"Just a little mother-daughter talk, Broadway," Demona said. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"Okay," he said. "Sorry it took so long," he added as he set down the bags he was carrying. "I completely forgot about the steaks."
"That's okay," Demona said. "I trust you have everything you need." She paused as she caught the imploring look in Angela's eyes. "Very well," she said. "You can tell him. But no one else."
"Tell me what?" Broadway asked.
"I'll let Angela tell you," she said. "In the meantime, I'll take these into the kitchen." She reached down and picked up the bags Broadway had brought. "I do hope you brought enough for four, though," she added as she headed inside.
"Four?" Broadway asked. "I thought there was only going to be the three of us."
Demona felt a grin cross her face as she entered the house, listening for just a moment as Angela began whispering into Broadway's ear.
"What?" she heard him gasp.
"That was splendid, Broadway," Demona said as she set her utensils on her plate and pushed it away. "A wonderful meal, and an even better dessert. My compliments."
"Yeah," Don added. "You sure know your way around a kitchen."
"Thanks," Broadway said, still slightly amazed by the revelation earlier in the evening. It really began to sink in when both he and Angela watched as Don at one point reached over and took Demona's hand, squeezing it briefly before bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Demona, in love with a human, he thought. Well, I guess I've seen everything now. "Although, you're pretty good yourself, Don. I think Brooklyn's still having flashbacks from that chili you made."
Demona looked at Don, a questioning look on her face. "Chili?" she asked.
"It tends to run kinda hot," Don said.
"Hot, nothing," Broadway quipped. "We're talking nuclear."
"Maybe you should make me some," Demona said. "I'm fairly certain I can handle anything you can dish out."
Angela started coughing, choking slightly on the wine she had been drinking when Demona made her statement, and Broadway quickly went to her aid. "Sorry," she finally said. "It's just..."
Demona sighed. "I swear, Angela. You really need to quit watching that garbage that passes for entertainment. I told you before about that. Not everything I say has to have a sexual innuendo."
"I know, Mother," she said politely. "But you have to admit that it did sound a little..."
"Suggestive?" Demona said.
"To say the least," Angela said.
Demona looked over and caught the smile on Don's face. "Perhaps I was being just a little," she admitted, reaching over and taking his hand. "Of course, I do have a reason."
Angela smiled slightly, seeing how much her mother loved Don. "Is there anything else I should know about?" she asked.
Don looked over at Demona. "Do you think we should tell her?" he asked.
Demona knew what he was referring to. "It seems as good a time as any," she said.
Angela quickly looked back from her mother to Don, then back again. "What's going on?" she asked, already worried. "Mother, you're not..."
Demona tossed her head back and laughed. "Oh, Angela," she said. "The look on your face just now!" She finished laughing as she looked at Angela's embarrassed face. "No, daughter," she said. "I am not pregnant." She tossed a quick look at Don. "Not for lack of trying, mind you," she quickly added, which drew a startled gasp from Angela.
"Mother!"
"Maybe I should start...clearing the table," Broadway said, a little flustered about the direction the conversation was going in.
"I think I'll help," Don said. As much as he was enjoying himself, seeing Demona verbally outwitting her own daughter, he didn't want to be too close to Ground Zero in case Angela took her mother's teasing the wrong way.
Demona waited until Don and Broadway were out of the room before turning to her daughter, seeing the expectant look in her eyes.
"Well?" Angela said pointedly.
"Don has agreed," she said. "To become apprenticed in the use of his powers."
"What?" Angela gasped.
"You seem surprised," Demona said.
"I am," Angela said. "I mean, I didn't even know he had powers."
"Surely, he must have used them when he took that picture of you and Broadway that he sent me," Demona said.
"No," Angela said. "That was..." She paused, wondering if she should tell Demona about what really happened that day.
"There's something you're not telling me," Demona said flatly. "If Don didn't use his abilities to create that picture, then what..." She stopped, and her eyes shot open in realization. "You didn't let Alexander turn you into a human again, did you?"
"It wasn't intentional, Mother," Angela said. "Don was at the castle taking some pictures of the clan when I told him about mine and Broadway's mating ceremony. He said he wished he'd been there to see it, and I told him I wished that you had something to keep on your desk at work. But since there was no way you could without blowing you secret..."
"And Alex just happened to overhear you," Demona sighed.
"It took us all by surprise," Angela said. "But just myself and Broadway changed. No one else. Puck almost made him change us right back, but I...asked him not to. I thought why should the perfect opportunity go to waste."
"Angela," Demona said, pausing as Don and Broadway came back to gather up the rest of the dishes. She waited until they were out of earshot again. "You should know by now that the magic of the Third Race always comes with a price. You should never give them the chance to use it on you. Believe me, I'm speaking from experience."
"But, Mother," Angela protested. "Alex is just a child and doesn't know any better. He didn't mean any harm."
"Perhaps not," Demona said. "But you should still be careful around him. And Puck. The fact that he is training Alex in the use of his abilities is enough to make me wary."
"Is that what this is all about, Mother?" Angela asked. "You're worried about what Alex may do in the future?"
"Perhaps," Demona admitted. "He may be only quarter Fae, but he is still a member of the Third Race. And he is Xanatos' son. That combination alone is enough to give me nightmares." She reached over and quickly took Angela's hand. "But that is not the reason why I began training you, you know that. I started your training in order to give you something to use to defend the clan against Madoc and Maeve and the rest of the Unseelie Court. And that is why I need you to continue your training."
"What about Don?" Angela asked. "Is that the reason you asked him to..."
"Don actually asked me to train him," Demona said. "I initially asked him to let me teach him when I became aware of his abilities several months ago, but he was...reluctant. He...didn't know if he could trust me then." She looked at Angela. "And with good reason."
"But he trusts you now," Angela said.
Demona smiled. "We've become lovers, daughter. Is it any wonder that he would choose to begin his training now? We've earned each other's love and trust. And to be honest, I do have another reason for this." Demona got up from the table and headed out onto the balcony.
"What is it, Mother?" Angela asked as she followed her outside.
"You asked me some time ago if there was one human who treated me well during the years I spent alone," Demona said. "I think you know by now that there was." She turned and looked at her daughter. "His name was Michel. I met him during the Sixteenth Century in France when I fell victim to the Black Plague. He cared for me, comforted me, guarded me during the day while I slept, gave me shelter when I needed it during the night. And he taught me things, things the Archmage never would have. In all the years we were together, he never said one unkind word to me, never once tried to destroy me while I slept."
She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Somewhere along the line, I felt myself...developing feelings for him. Strong feelings. Feelings I had never had for another human."
"You were in love?" Angela asked.
"I tried hard to deny it, but yes, I was." Demona turned away from her then, looking out across the night sky. "I was a fool to deny it, and when Michel died, I lost the chance to tell him, and the only true human friend I had then." She looked back at Angela. "Michel had a rare gift, Angela. He saw things in a way no one else could or wanted to. When he found me, he did not see a terrifying monster. He saw a sick and wounded being who needed help." She paused again, but this time Angela wasn't inclined to interrupt her. "When I truly looked at him for the first time, I saw something in Michel's eyes that I had never seen before. It was as if there were a brilliant light there, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I found great comfort there in those eyes, and when Michel died, I saw that light go out, and I felt as if a cold hand had grabbed my heart and squeezed the very life out of me."
"And you think that Don has this gift too?" Angela asked.
"I know he does," Demona said. "The first time I met him, when he was working at Newtech, I thought I caught a brief glimpse of it. Then, when he rescued me during the fire, I got the chance to look deep into his eyes. That's when I knew I had found it again. And that was the main reason I saved his life. I couldn't let that light go out again."
"Mother..." Angela started, but Demona quickly cut her off.
"I know what you're going to say, Angela," she said. "That maybe I'm doing this for the wrong reasons. Maybe I am, or maybe I've been given the chance to set things right for once. I should at least be given the chance to see this through to the end."
"I'm not trying to questions your intentions, Mother," Angela said. "I'm just worried. You're my mother, and I love you. But you have to remember that Don is my friend, and I care a great deal for him. We all do."
Demona stepped over to her and rested her hand on her daughter's cheek. "I know, Angela. And believe me, I would do nothing to hurt either one of you." She paused as she saw Don and Broadway returning from the kitchen. "Well, our respective partners appear to have finished their duties in the kitchen. What say we have a little talk with them before I send the two of you home."
"Two of us?" Angela said. "What about Don?"
"Don and I have a few things to...discuss...before we call it a night," Demona said. "Besides, we do need to burn off all those excess calories your mate fed us."
"Mother!" Angela said, trying hard to sound shocked.
"What?" Demona said. "I think I'm entitled. After all, you did walk in on us."
Angela just shook her head in amusement as she followed her mother inside.
Demona closed the balcony doors, locking them securely this time before turning her attention to Don. "Well, now that we've had dinner and our guests are gone for the night," she said as she wrapped her arms around Don's neck. "Where were we before we were interrupted?"
"Let's see," Don said. "I believe we were discussing...incentives."
"Ah yes," Demona said. "Such as this one." She reached up and kissed him deeply on the lips. "And this one." She moved her lips to the side of his throat.
"I think we're ready for some additional negotiations," Don said. "What do you think?"
"I think you're right," Demona said. "Care to join me?" She turned and started for the stairs. Halfway up, she removed her halter and tossed it back to him, then smiled as he bolted up the stairs after her.
October 8, 1999Demona stretched luxuriantly as she woke up, then turned over in the bed to nibble at the neck of her sleeping lover.
"Time to get up, Don," she said. "You promised me breakfast this morning."
Don yawned, then turned over and wrapped his arms around her. "I did, didn't I?"
"You most certainly did," she said. "And I intend to hold you to your word." She looked towards the windows, seeing the sky beginning to brighten with the coming dawn. "You know how I get when I haven't had anything to eat after I change."
"Were you always like this?" he asked.
"Only since you entered my life," Demona said teasingly.
"Humph," Don snorted. "I think I created a monster."
"I'm only a monster when I don't have my morning breakfast," she said. She gave Don a quick kiss before pushing him towards the edge of the bed. "Now, if you please," she said. "Feed me."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. Smiling, he sat up and reached for his pants, pulling them on before turning and giving her a long kiss. "I'll have milady's breakfast prepared by the time you finish changing," he said.
Demona sat up after he left and looked towards the window. She frowned as she looked at the early morning sky. "At least, I know I'm not alone in this," she said as the change took hold.
Don had breakfast ready by the time she came down, already dressed for work.
"Mmmm, smells wonderful," Dominique said, sitting down and waiting until Don sat down next to her. She looked over the minor feast; sausage and eggs, pancakes, toast and orange juice, plus two cups of coffee. Don picked up one as Dominique started on the eggs.
"I am so glad that today is Friday," she said. "I've only got a few meeting scheduled for today, and then I'm all yours for the weekend."
"Glad to hear it," he said. "Although, I might not be able to meet you for lunch like I planned."
"Why not?" Dominique asked.
"I got a call yesterday from Delilah's old boss Jack Thompson," he said, stopping when he saw the look of disdain on her face.
"What did he want?" she said, disgust clear in her voice.
"He wanted to talk about the poster Delilah gave him," Don said. "The one I told you she had me design." He paused as he saw the look on her face. She's not going to be happy about this, he thought. "Seems there's been a few offers to buy it, and a couple of offers to have more made."
"People actually want to buy it?" Dominique said in disbelief.
"It looks that way," Don said. "Seems that Delilah's become quite the overnight sensation."
"More like the fantasy of hormonal teenage males and their fathers," Dominique said.
"Be that as it may," Don said. "But it could work out to everyone's advantage."
"Meaning..."
"Meaning," Don said. "That this could be the thing that makes people look at gargoyles in a different light. Up till now, everyone's seen gargoyles as creatures, not flesh and blood beings. This poster idea could be what changes that."
"Turning us from creatures of the night into objects of desire," Dominique said disdainfully.
"Would that be so bad?" Don asked.
She was about to turn that back on him, but then Dominique caught the look in Don's eyes. "I guess not," she said, remembering that she was his object of desire. "I'm assuming you brought this to my attention because you'll need a few of Nightstone's resources to get this project off the ground," she said.
"It would make the job easier with a little financial backing," Don said. "After all, I'm still just a working stiff."
"Who just so happens to be sleeping with his boss," Dominique quipped. "Very well," she said. "I'll give you the backing that you need. But, I expect to be able to have a say in which images are used. This is Delilah we're talking about, after all. In a way, she's as much my daughter as Angela is."
"Gotcha," Don said. "I promise I'll leave the risqué pictures on the cutting room floor."
"Not a chance," she said. "You'll be turning them over to me to be burned."
Nightstone UnlimitedDominique sat back as she tossed the last of the reports back onto her desk and stretched her arms over her head. She looked at the clock, suppressing a slight moan as she saw that it was already past one o'clock. Well, he did say he wasn't going to be able to make our lunch date, she reminded herself. "I just hope this idea of his is worth it."
Her phone rang. "Yes," she said, picking it up.
"Ms. Calhoun is on line two for you, Ms. Destine," Candice said.
Andrea, she thought happily. "Thank you, Candice," she said, then paused as she waited for the call to be transferred.
"Hello, Dominique," she heard Andrea say.
"Andrea, it's so good to hear from you," she said. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing great," Andrea said. "I ran into a few friends from high school while I was in Seattle, and they invited me to spend a couple of days with them, sort of an impromptu class reunion. Unfortunately, it ended up turning into a couple of weeks."
"I was wondering where you had disappeared to," Dominique said. "You didn't call or write..."
"Actually, I sent a letter out yesterday," she said. "I'm sorry I haven't called, but we got real busy when my friends saw what I'd been up to."
"What did they think?" she asked.
"They loved my artwork," Andrea said. "In fact, one of them owns a gallery in Los Angeles, and she asked me if I would exhibit a few of my paintings there. Toni said she gets a few celebrities in every so often, and some of them might even buy my stuff."
"Los Angeles?" Dominique said. "Andrea, I'm proud of you. It seems this trip to Seattle may have turned out better than you planned."
"So you think I should do this?" Andrea asked.
"Of course," Dominique said. "Especially if your friend can get some celebrities interested in your work. When do you think the showing will take place?"
"Well, I'm meeting her tomorrow to discuss things," Andrea said. "But she did say she can make some openings in her gallery on Monday. Do you think you can make it out here, Dominique? I'd like it if you could be here."
Monday? she thought. Drat! She was going to be tied up in meetings most of next week as it was, and she wanted to begin Don's training. "I'm sorry, but I can't, Andrea," she said. "I've got a board meeting scheduled for Monday afternoon, which I can't afford to put off."
"I understand," Andrea said. "The corporate life is a hard one. And it doesn't leave you much time for anything else."
"Don't I know it," Dominique said.
"Well, I'll see you when I get back then," Andrea said. "Goodbye, Dominique."
"Goodbye, Andrea," Dominique said. She broke the connection, then called her secretary. "Candice, I'd like you to hold my calls for the next hour."
"Is anything wrong, Ms. Destine," she asked.
"No," Dominique said. "I'd just like a little peace and quiet for a while."
"Of course, Ms. Destine," she said. As soon as she heard Candice break the connection, Dominique leaned back in her chair as she looked out the large window. I am in serious need of a long vacation, she thought. And I know just who I would take it with, too. She sighed as she let her thoughts drift back to that first night alone with Don...
October 9, 1999Destine Manor
Angela followed her mother through the house until they reached the workroom at the back. After Demona undid the mystical barrier that sealed the room from intruders, they stepped inside.
"I half-expected Don to be here," Angela said. When she arrived, she paused before opening the balcony doors, just in case her mother and Don were locked in a passionate embrace on the couch again.
"He'll be along shortly," Demona said. "He called earlier and said he had one or two more things to discuss with..." She paused as her face drew into a frown. "Delilah's friend Jack," she said with a hint of disdain.
Angela looked at her with a hint of confusion on her face. "Who?"
"Jack Thompson," Demona said. "The owner of that toilet Delilah used to dance at."
"Why would he want to talk to Don?" Angela asked.
"It seems that several 'parties' have shown an interest in the poster Don designed for her," Demona said. "There's been some discussion of producing more for general distribution."
"You don't seem too happy with the idea," Angela said.
"I'm a little hesitant, yes," Demona said. "After all, the idea of gargoyles being viewed as sex objects is somewhat...distasteful." She paused as she considered her daughter. "I'm afraid it may lead to complications later for our kind."
"Or not," Angela said. "After all, Andrea's paintings seem to be doing a lot of good."
"Andrea's artwork is at least tasteful," Demona said. "This poster...I shudder to think how much 'exposure' Delilah will get."
"I think you should at least see the poster first, Mother," Angela said. "I have, and believe me, it's not as bad as you think."
Demona turned to look at her. "How..."
"Delilah brought it over to the castle before she gave it to her friend," Angela said. "She wanted to show it off. And it was quite good." She quirked a smile then. "And trust me, mother. There wasn't all that much 'exposure'. No more than what you'd expect from a something like this, at least."
Demona sighed. "Perhaps," she said. "But still..."
The sound of a door closing caught their attention, and they paused as they heard someone walking through the house.
"Anyone here?" they heard a familiar voice call out.
"Back here, Don," Demona called out. She turned her attention back to Angela briefly. "Please don't say a word to him about what we just discussed," she said. "I'd prefer to discuss it with him in private."
"Okay, Mother," Angela said as they heard Don near the room.
Don paused as he entered the workroom. "Wow," he said. "I've never been in this room before," he said.
"And with good reason," Demona said. "This is my workroom, Don. Where I keep my most guarded secrets, spells and potions."
"Interesting decor," he said, taking in his surroundings. "I know a couple of guys who are heavy into D and D, who would kill to see the inside of this place."
"Which is why you must promise to keep it a secret, Don," Demona warned. "There's no telling what might happen if any of this were to fall into the wrong hands."
"I understand," he said, crossing the room and taking her in his arms. "Your secrets are my secrets."
Angela watched the exchange between her mother and Don, then coughed slightly as she saw them move a little closer. "Ahem," she said, getting their attention.
Demona blushed slightly as Don removed his arms from around her waist.
"Sorry, Angela," she said. She then put on an air of professionalism as she considered her lover. "So, are you ready to begin your training?" she asked.
"I think so," Don said. "As long as it doesn't involve trying to levitate fighter jets or battle masked ghost warriors who end looking like me."
"What?" Demona asked, but then she caught the reference. "Don't worry, Don," she said. "All I will be doing right now is teaching you a few basic spells, just as I taught Angela when I began her training." She took in the gym bag he was carrying. "You did bring the necessary items, I trust."
"Got them right here," Don said. He opened the gym bag and pulled out a small laptop computer and several CD-ROM disks.
"What are those for?" Angela asked.
"Demona explained to me that most of the spells she'll be teaching me need to be spoken in Latin," Don said. "I haven't quite gotten the hang of it just yet."
"Unfortunate, but true," Demona said. "So Don is going to need some added help in his studies. This," she said, resting her hand on the laptop. "Will help him translate the spells and instruct him in the proper pronunciation. We can't have him blowing up the house just because he mispronounced one word, now can we?"
Angela smiled slightly. "I guess not," she said.
Demona looked at Don. "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," he said.
The next few hours seemed to alternately fly by quickly, then slow almost to a crawl as Demona drilled both Angela and Don. A few times, Angela paused in her study of one of the books her mother had given her to look over at Don as Demona coached him as he worked out some of the Latin phrases. She noted the smile of approval on her mother's face as Don appeared to be having an easier time at learning the spells than she did.
Teacher's pet, she thought, but she didn't feel any envy towards Don. She was happy for them, and this seemed to be bringing her mother and Don even closer together. She paused to stretch and stood up.
"Is anything wrong, Angela?" Demona asked.
"Just a little stiff," she said. "I've been sitting in that chair almost all night."
"I guess a break is in order," Demona said. She closed the text she was helping Don to study and got up to stretch herself.
Don watched her stretch, then smiled as he threw his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
"Don!" she yelped, but she didn't give any indication that she wasn't enjoying his playfulness.
"You know I love it when you do that," he said fiendishly, just before he planted a kiss on her belly.
Angela rolled her eyes. "Jeez," she said in exasperation. "Could the two of you be any more obvious? I thought we were supposed to be studying."
Demona finally managed to slip out of Don's grasp and moved over to her. "You're right, Angela," she said. "We should stick to what we originally came here for." She looked over at Don then. "Later perhaps, we can have a little...playtime," she said. "But not now."
"Okay," Don said. "But I'm going to hold you to that."
"I'm sure you will," she said.
Don got up and walked across the room, groaning slightly. "You know, Angela just might be right about taking a break," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."
Demona watched as Don left the room before turning to her daughter. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if we took a break ourselves," she said. "We have been at this for a while."
Angela stretched again. "Thank you, Mother," she said. As she started across the workroom, she paused as she looked back at Demona. "If you don't mind, I'm going to call the castle. Let Father know when I'll be coming back."
"Okay," she said as she watched Angela leave the room.
Don paused as he started back in, looking at Angela as she headed for the phone. "Where's Angela going?" he asked.
"She going to let her father know when she expects to return to the castle," Demona said. "Even though Goliath has for the most part forgiven me for what happened in the past, he's still a little wary about my teaching her magic."
"Just as I'm sure you worry every time she goes out on patrol with the rest of the clan," Don said. "It goes with being a parent."
"So you understand?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. "Hell, when Elisa and I were together, I used to worry whenever she hit the streets. It's a natural reaction when you care about someone the way you and Goliath do about Angela."
Demona smiled at him. "Thank you for understanding," she said.
"All part of the package," he said as she sat down again. She reopened the text she had been helping Don study and beckoned to him. "I think it's time we resumed our lesson," she said.
"Okay," he said.
Angela came into the workroom a few moments later, and found them kissing each other tenderly. She shook her head as she turned to head back out. As she did, she bumped the workbench lightly and caused a scroll to fall off the top shelf.
"What's this?" she asked absently as she picked it up and unrolled it.
"What?" she heard her mother ask.
"This scroll," she said. "It fell off the top shelf."
Top shelf? Demona thought absently, too enthralled by Don's kiss to give it any serious thought. Did I have something on the top shelf?
Angela looked at the passage briefly, then began to read it aloud. "Omnes conspecti, omnes auditi..."
Demona's eyes shot open as she recognized the spell Angela was reading. "Angela, no!" she cried out.
Angela looked up just in time to see her mother racing over to her and tear the scroll from her hand. "Mother, what is it?"
"You must never, ever, read any of my scrolls without asking me first!" she snapped.
Angela stepped back, surprised by her mother's anger. "Mother, what..." she started.
"Demona, what's going on?" Don asked, surprised. In the short time that he had come to know her, Don had never seen Demona act like this before. And he was certain he had never seen her raise her voice to Angela like that.
"This..." Demona started angrily, turning to glare at him. But then she stopped, trying to calm herself. He has no way of knowing what this is, she remembered. He wasn't even here that night...
Her thoughts drifted back, remembering as she strolled down the streets of Manhattan four years ago, randomly shattering stone figures and reveling in the feeling of power she had over the petrified humans. Humans whom she had turned to stone...
Don walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, holding her as he felt her begin to shake. "Demona, what is it?" he asked. "Talk to us."
She turned and looked at him, afraid of what he would think of her once she told him. "I...Don, I told you that I've done some terrible things in my past," she said. She looked over at Angela. "Things I have only now begun to regret." She looked down at the scroll. "This spell," she continued. "Was one of those things."
"I don't understand," Don said.
She looked at Angela again. "Your father has told you about the so-called 'Lost Night', I assume," she said.
"Yes," Angela said. "The night you..." Then she made the connection. "Oh, Mother! I'm sorry! I didn't know..."
"What?" Don asked. "What's this about a 'Lost Night'?"
"Four years ago," Demona said. "I cast a spell. This spell." She clutched the parchment to her chest, wishing that she could simply destroy it and be done with it. "The exact translation is 'All who see this, all who hear this. Turn to stone throughout the night. Until the skies burn!'
"Turn to stone..." Don gasped. "You mean..."
"Yes," Demona said. "I turned almost everyone in Manhattan to stone. And then..." She paused as she looked at Angela. "I went out and began...smashing them."
"What?" Don gasped, stepping back from her. "Why?"
"I was angry," she said. "I blamed the humans for the destruction of the clan when Castle Wyvern was sacked, and I thought it was a fitting revenge. But now..." She stopped as she looked at Don, hoping that he would forgive her. "I realize how wrong it was. I took so many lives that night that I can't possible make up for all of them. One of them," she continued as she recalled a conversation she had had with Andrea almost a year and a half ago. "Was Andrea's sister, Helen."
"Mother, are you sure about that?" Angela asked.
"I am," she said. "When I first met Andrea, she told me about her sister. And how she disappeared one night without a trace. The same night I cast this spell." She looked down at the parchment.
"And you haven't told Andrea?" Don asked.
"I haven't even told her I'm a gargoyle yet!" she snapped, then immediately regretted it. She could tell by the expression in his eyes that he was trying to come to terms with this latest admission of guilt on her part, and her yelling at him wasn't helping. "How can I tell her I'm the monster who murdered her sister?"
"No, you're not," Don said.
"What?" both Angela and Demona gasped.
"You're not that Demona," he said as he placed his hands back on her shoulders. "Not anymore. That Demona ceased to exist when Angela entered your life and you took a human as a lover. You're not her."
"Don, but still..." she started.
"Mother, please listen to him," Angela said. "We both know what you've done in the past. But it's what you're doing now that's important."
"She's right," Don said. "Demona, you know that I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. Not even this." He paused as he took the scroll from her hand. "What say we put this part of your past to rest." He went over to the workbench and put the parchment into the flame of one of the candles.
"That won't work," Demona said.
"Why not?" Don asked, noting that she was right. The parchment seemed to refuse to catch fire.
"There's an enchantment on the parchment itself," Demona said. "When I learned what happened to the counterspell that would have freed Goliath and the others, I took steps to ensure that my spells were spared a similar fate."
"What happened?" Don asked.
"After the Vikings sacked Castle Wyvern," Angela said. "Their leader Hakon began tearing pages out of the Grimorum and burned them."
Don looked at the untouched parchment. "Can't you remove the spell?"
"No," Demona said. "The counterspell was in the Grimorum Arcanorum itself, and Goliath said that it was destroyed along with the Archmage on Avalon."
"There's no way to get rid of it, then," he said.
"None," Demona said. "I had thought that by keeping it locked away in here I could keep it from being discovered and used again, but now..." She looked at Angela, knowing that her daughter hadn't intended any harm, but if she had been casting that spell instead of just reading it... "It can't be destroyed, and I can't simply throw it out in the trash, either. Someone would find it. Someone who would recognize it for what it is and would be willing to use it."
"There might be a way," Don said. When Demona turned to look at him, she caught the smile on his face. "I've got an idea."
October 10, 1999The Eyrie Building
"Are you sure about this, Mother?" Angela asked as they approached the castle.
"Not really," Demona said. "But Don thought it would be a good way of putting an end to this thing, once and for all." She looked down at the cylinder in her hand, an Army surplus mortar tube that Don had picked up at one of the local military surplus stores. Inside the weather-tight aluminum tube was the scroll she had used to turn most of Manhattan to stone, along with two others, spells that she was even more reluctant to talk about than the first one.
They looked down into the courtyard and caught sight of the clan, gathered around a freshly dug hole. Taking a deep breath, Demona headed for them, with Angela following close behind.
Goliath watched as his daughter and his former mate landed before him. They looked at each other for an uncomfortable minute before Elisa stepped up the break the tension.
"Demona," she said.
Demona turned toward her, and gave her a slight nod. "Detective," she said before turning her attention back to Goliath. "Did Don explain to you what needed to be done?" she asked.
"He did," Goliath said as he looked at the cylinder in Demona's hand. "I take it then that these are the spells."
"They are," Demona said. "Goliath..."
"There is no need for apologies, Demona," he said. "The fact that you are entrusting these scrolls to us is proof that you are truly trying to make amends for what you have done. You should be proud of yourself."
She looked back at Angela, who was smiling at her. "I am," she said. "I thought that Don was going to be here..."
"He's getting the concrete ready," Elisa said quickly, knowing that Demona wanted to keep her relationship with Don a secret a little while longer, and that she wanted to be the one who breaks the news. Boy, is Goliath going to be surprised when she tells him, she thought.
"Already done," they heard Don say. They turned and saw him pushing a wheelbarrow towards them, Brooklyn and Broadway following close behind with several shovels. "What say we get this party started?"
"Agreed," Goliath said. Taking a shovel, he scooped several pounds of wet concrete into the hole, then stopped as Demona stepped forward.
"This is it then," she said. She knelt down, pausing for a moment to look at Elisa, who almost ended up becoming one of my many victims that night, before reaching into the hole and setting the cylinder into the concrete. She stepped back then as, one by one, the rest of the clan took turns filling in the hole. When it was filled, Goliath and Hudson lifted the flagstones that had been removed in order to dig the hole, and carefully set them back into place.
"So that's it then, huh?" Elisa said. "We don't have to worry about anyone getting their hands on those spells now?"
"Not quite," Demona said. "There is one final order of business." She took Angela's hands and together they stood over the buried scrolls. They began an incantation and as they completed it, the flagstones glowed brightly for an instant before fading back to normal.
"What was that?" Goliath asked. "What happened?
"Now no one can get to them," Demona said. "Angela and I have placed a mystical barrier on this spot, so that no one; human, Fae or gargoyle, will be able to disturb the scrolls."
"No one?" Goliath asked, a bit skeptical.
"Not even myself, Goliath," she said. "Not unless Angela is with me. That is my guarantee to you that those spells will never be used by anyone ever again."
"Are you certain?" he asked.
"Yes, Goliath," Demona said. "Of that, I am absolutely certain."
"Very well," he said. He paused as he looked towards the horizon. "Dawn approaches soon," he said as he stepped towards the battlements. "I assume you will not be spending the day here."
"Of course not," Demona said, turning slightly to look at Don. "There are other matters that need my attention." She hopped up onto the battlements and paused as she considered her daughter. "I will see you later tonight, then?"
"Of course, Mother," she said. "I'll be there."
"Until then, Angela," she said as she took across the sky.
Goliath watched until Demona was out of sight before turning to Elisa. "I am still unsure about this," he said. "The idea of Demona's magic being here in the castle..."
"I know, Goliath," she said. "It's almost like a ticking bomb, just waiting to go off." She paused as she looked at Angela and Don, who were talking together by the wall. "At least, that's how it would have felt like a few years ago. But I think that she's really trying to change now."
"Perhaps," Goliath said. "But I still feel that she bears watching. I cannot help but feel that there is something she is hiding from us."
Elisa had to fight to suppress a smile, knowing exactly what it was that Demona was keeping secret. Remember, she reminded herself. Demona wants to tell him herself. "We'll figure it out eventually," she said.
"I only hope that we learn what it is before something terrible happens," he said.
Elisa watched as the gargoyles headed for their spots along the wall and waited for the morning. She did note the look of surprise on Angela's face as Don stepped away from her moments before the dawn froze her in place.
"What was it you told Angela?" she asked as she and Don headed across the courtyard.
"Just a little friendly teasing," Don said. "Gave her something to think about."
"What?" Elisa asked.
"I told her she might be calling me Dad by this time next year," he said.
Elisa gasped, then felt a grin begin to spread across her face. "Oh, Don!" she laughed. "You are terrible!"
They continued to laugh as they disappeared into the castle.
The End