All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of R. .
Winds of Change: Season Two
Chapter One
Elisa drifted in a river of light, sound and muddled images. Her mind feebly grasped for anything that might be remotely linked to reality. She was trapped in a nightmare of illusion with no way to ground herself in reality. There were memories, of course there were. She remembered leaving the Eyrie building not long after the wind ceremony...
/
Time to clear her head, that was what she had told Goliath she needed. Time.. In reality, she could not look at him without being swamped by guilt. She had lost their baby, a baby that might never have been if only she had not pushed the limits of their relationship. It would take time for her to come to terms with that loss. She knew she could not do it under his watchful eyes. He feared he might lose her as well. His fear that she might slip away into the abyss along with their child was palpable, almost taking on a life of its own. She had no intention of giving up, however. Her soul needed to heal before her heart could return the love he offered once more. She knew he did not understand her need to seek solitute. He would have begged her, in his stoic way, not to leave the castle. There had been no other way and so she had left while he slept at the top of his tower.
Elisa had gone back to her apartment, thankful that Xanatos had maintained it for her. She suspected he had somehow known she would have need of it at some point. As much as she loved Goliath and reveled in spending time with him, she was still an independent soul. She needed space and quiet time just as much as he did. The loss of their child had nearly driven her mad for a time. Goliath had been her anchor through the worst of it. Even so, she had withdrawn from everyone and everything that had ever made her life worthwhile. It was time to find herself again.
The apartment had been quiet, almost solemn when she let herself in that cold winter morning. There had been just enough heat in the place to keep the pipes from bursting. Cagney's urn still sat on the coffee table as a silent reminder that her precious kitty was truly gone. Her thoughts drifted to Lacie, the maturing kitten that haunted Goliath's chambers. She wandered if he knew the cat was there or that she had taken up residence in his rooms. With a faint smile, she realized he must. His nose would have alerted him to the cat. The suspicion blossomed in her mind that he might have deliberately kept one of the kittens from Cagney's last litter. Some might see him as a giant, frightful beast thirsting for blood, but she knew the tender heart that beat beneath that hard exterior. It would be so like him to bond with a tiny kitten like that. Her heart warmed at the thought. The faint smile it invoked froze then melted away. Images of what might have been curdled the warm feeling that had slowly begun to bloom in her soul. She could clearly picture Goliath cradling their hybrid child, doting on it and defying gargoyle tradition to spoil it. Those images faded away and scattered as the baby's ashes had in the wind.
Elisa sagged against the door and put a hand over her eyes. She hoped against hope that the tears threatening to overwhelm her did not burn their way through her eye sockets. How can there be any more, she thought miserably as she allowed herself to sink to the floor. The flood washed over her and for a time, she was aware of nothing but the utterly hopeless feeling of loss. She did not notice her stomach growling insistently for food nor did she notice the sun beginning its slow descent toward the western horizon. Instead, the tears and sobs came harder than they had during the wind ceremony. Her soul had been numb, her heart wrapped in Goliath's protective presence. Now there was only her and the open space of the apartment. She was finally allowing herself to truly feel the loss. The release of emotion seemed to lift a heavy weight from her shoulders as much as it exhausted her physically.
When finally the deluge ceased, she realized she needed food. She wandered if there would be anything remotely edible in the refrigerator. No sooner had the thought occurred than she had tossed it aside. She knew there was nothing in there. The maid service Xanatos had hired to keep the place spotless had also cleaned out whatever was left in there. She had no illusions about the mess she had left them. No, if she wanted food, she was going to have to order take out.
Slithering back up to her feet, she fished her cell phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the list of contacts. She stopped on the number for Wen's Rice Shack. Egg rolls, that was what she wanted. Wen's egg rolls were like a greasy bite of heaven. She poked the button and placed her order. Wen guaranteed thirty minutes or the next order was free. She had had opportunity to call him on that guarantee once or twice.
/
Demona could not bear the thought of Goliath rutting with his human whore. Her inner turmoil was made worse by the knowledge that they had already conceived one abomination. She had seen the wind ceremony, heard the words spoken choked voices for a 'child of the clan'. Another hybrid monstrosity might not be as impossible as she might hope. A hybrid between gargoyle and human, such a thing should not have been possible. She had to know how it had come to be, if it could happen again and if there was a way to prevent it in the future. Even if she killed this one freakish human another might take her place at the side of one of the other males. The only person she knew in the whole of the world who might be able to solve that riddle was Anton Sevarius. His work with genetics and his obsession with anything gargoyle in nature might help to shed some light on the impossible subject. She had gone to him with the few bits of information she had collected over the last weeks. He wanted the human not just samples of her blood. There were extensive tests to be run, he had said. He needed to see this 'magic' the Maza woman wielded first hand, he had told her. The magic might hold the answers they sought, he had prompted. In all his prodding and probing for more information, Sevarius had somehow convinced Demona herself to capture and bring the woman to him. He was good at manipulation, she had to admit that. There had not been many over the centuries who could coerce her into anything.
Whether than bulk at the idea, Demona had grudgingly agreed to retrieve the human. After all, the woman had proven herself hard to capture or kill over the years. That was due, in no small part, to her closeness to Goliath. Maza was quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat in her own right, however, and that had give the gargess a run for her money on a few occasions. Demona hated herself for admiring that skill, but she recognized it for what it was; one warrior sizing up another. If she were honest with herself, Maza was her nemesis in the truest sense of the word. She thwarted her plans at ever turn. The human was a thorn in her side that she would gladly tear out if given the chance.
It had taken weeks of planning, waiting and watching. Now she had a chance to take the woman without Goliath's interference. Maza had finally returned to her apartment. Demona need only wait for nightfall. The woman would be no match for her gargoyle strength and without Goliath... Maza will finally be out of my way, she thought venomously. It did not matter to her that Sevarius meant to keep the woman alive as a science experiment. Experiments failed, after all. The test subjects died. Caged, Maza would have no escape from Demona's wrath. She would die once Sevarius had what he needed from her.
That was the thought that carried her onto the detective's balcony with a gracefully lite thump shortly after sunset. Just as she drew even with the sliding glass door, she saw the woman back away from it with a look of shock on her face. She smiled her most vicious smile and gripped the metal door frame in one taloned hand. The metal crumpled with a squeal of protest and she tore the door open. As it buckled, the glass shattered and rained out of it around her feet. The woman within bolted toward the kitchen area, but Demona was faster. She thrust herself through the door and made a grab for the detective.
/
Elisa heard the faint thump on the balcony and sighed. Goliath..., she thought sadly. He would not understand why she had returned to the apartment with the intention of staying there for the time being. She stepped around the end table with its gilded lamp and the easy chair heading toward the balcony door. It would be locked as she had not stayed there in quite some time. She was reaching for that tiny lock when she glanced up. Her heart stopped and she gasped at the sight.
The last person on Earth she had expected to see standing outside that door was Demona. The other gave her a demented smile a split second before she sank her talons into the door frame. Elisa gripped the collar of her bomber jacked and spun on her heel. The small communicator activated as she darted for the kitchen. She kept a spare gun and ammo in the draw nearest the living room. It had always been a 'just in case' kind of secret. Even her partner did not know it was there. If he had, Matt might have jumped her case for not keeping it locked up like the other.
All this went through her head lightning fast as she whirled around to face Demona, gun pointed at the female's chest. She had not expected the gargess to snap her tail like a whip at her wrist. A yelp of pain and the gun went sailing from her hands to land with a clatter somewhere across the room. So much for slowing her down with a couple of holes in the gut, Elisa thought sarcastically. She wasted no time in putting the kitchen island between herself and her assailant. The instant Demona moved to leap over the island, Elisa vaulted onto it and slid to the other side on a hip. She landed with a rattling thump on the other side. Luckily she missed the pair of bar stools. The gargess made another grab for her and snagged the back of her bomber jacket. The shredding leather sounding too much like tearing flesh as those talons tore through it like a knife through butter.
Demona spat an unintelligible curse at her even as the detective planted one foot into the seat of the easy chair near her favorite lamp. It tipped and she followed, increasing the angle. As she did so, she snatching the lamp from the table. It was solid and might serve as a weapon of sorts. The momentum of the chair's tip and the angle she followed it with yanked the plug from the wall. The room was effectively plunged into darkness. Faint light from the streetlights below the balcony filtered in through the ruined glass door. As the chair finished its fall to the floor, Elisa stepped off it and pivoted around to face her adversary. She had effectively placed the chair between herself and Demona. It was clear that small barrier was not going to stop the enraged gargoyle, however.
Elisa readied herself with her makeshift weapon. When Demona lunged for her, she swung the lamp with every ounce of strength she could muster. The gargess issued a satisfying shriek of pain as the lamp made contact. It snapped with such force it nearly cost Elisa her balance.
The sight was sickening and seemed to resolve itself in slow motion. The lamp snapped and as it did so, it tore into the gargess' flesh. Her tiara spun away with a small chunk of the lamp and a bit of hair. The rest of the lamp ripped a slab of skin away nearly to the bone. Her ear just seemed to slide down past her jaw and hang there with the rest of the strip of meat. Blood poured from the wound profusely in an instant.
Demona screamed in rage and pain as she clamped her hand over the wound. Her eyes, already lit like hellfire, seemed to blaze redder still. Those eyes were locked on Elisa with the promise of a very slow, very painful death. The woman knew she stood no chance against the gargoyle's natural weapons. She was as good as dead if the female got her talons on her.
Some part of Elisa wanted to help the 'woman' even though they were bitter enemies. It was her nature to wish to help those in need. She squashed that desire as the female screamed again in rage and rushed her. There was no time to react. Demona's fist impacted with her jaw like a wrecking ball. The human woman dropped like a sack of potatoes.
There were other pieces, snatches of memory more like wisps of smoke. Her mind grasped at them and they danced away. She saw Goliath sprawled on the floor, the supporting structures of his left wing ruined. A dizzying flight over the city dangling by her arms. The drop on a roof and a desperate attempt to escape that resulted in another knock to the head. Then there was the big white building with the sign her eyes refused to focus on. Another knock to the head and blackness had claimed her.
/
Elisa struggled out of the river of unconsciousness. She awoke suddenly to harsh artificial light piercing the numbing darkness behind her eyelids. Her face was plastered to a cold slab of cement that was clearly the floor. The stale taste of a long night lingered sourly in her mouth. She detected traces of blood as well as she rolled her tongue over the inside of her tender left cheek. Demona's fist had impacted with her jaw harder than she had thought the night before. Was it only the night before, she wandered. Tendrils of pounding pain shot up through her temple as she attempted to shift. The gargess had not been kind or gentle in transporting her. Her shoulders ached horribly. She might have started out in a death-grip around her waste, but Demona had grown tired of her struggles and dropped her on a rooftop. The moment of freedom had been fleeting and though Elisa was still reeling from the jolt of the drop, she had staggered to her feet. Her run across the roof was short lived. Demona had hit her like a battering ram and slammed her into the short wall that enclosed the rooftop. From there, the gargess had carried her high into the night by her wrists to ensure she would think twice about struggling.
The memories were clearer now that she was awake, but she still did not know where she had been taken. Her only solace was in the knowledge that the clan knew she was in trouble. She had made sure to activate the small communicator that was clipped to the inside collar of her bomber jacket. It would have transmitted everything that happened during her attack directly to the 'command center' of the Eyrie. The clan, more specifically Goliath, would know that Demona had captured her and hauled her off somewhere. With a little luck, either Lex or Xanatos would be able to track her location with the small device. It was a long shot, she knew, but it might well be the only one she had.
Groggily, she looked around now. Her vision was blurry from the concussion she no doubt had. She was able to make out some details of her surroundings even so. The texture of the flooring beneath her had the feel of concrete. Four milk crate-like walls pinned her into a space roughly ten feet by ten feet. There was enough space along the walls for a sink, a toilet and a cot. In the center there was just enough room for her to lie on the floor with her arms and legs slightly spread.
Pushing herself upward into a seated position proved nearly more trouble than it was worth. Her head pounded abominably even as her stomach attempted to evict her last meal. She had never gotten those egg rolls, she realized sickly. So what did I last eat, she wandered. She was certain she did not want to find out by spewing it across the floor.
When her head ceased spinning and her stomach eased its rebellion, she noticed a length of shining chain between her hands. It draped over her leg and continued on up past her range of sight. Tracing it with her fingers, she found it securely locked to a collar that fitted snugly around her neck. Anxiety began to crawl up her spine as she traced the other end with her eyes. Her breath was coming in shallow puffs long before she found the other end firmly bolted to the wall between the room's meager facilities. This...this was her worst nightmare. Demona could have done nearly anything to her, but this. She could have bounced back easily from all of it. Being confined to a small space, strapped in, chained in, restricted to that space with no clear escape... That was her anxiety trigger. It had been since her car had tumbled over the cliff.
The memories of that wild ride down the cliff came flooding back along with those of being trapped by the seat-belt. Parts she had thought lost forever forced their way in, all crowding her mind for attention. Real panic began to mount as she virtually relived that struggle. I drown!, the realization hit her like a tone of bricks. I was dead and Puck...
"Puck brought me back," she whispered, the sick revelation twisting in her mind like a grave worm. An eternity seemed to tick by before she breathed, "Why...?"
The panic refused to subside and she staggered to her feet. As far as she knew, Puck was not within range to resurrect her this time should Demona or the 'Doctor' she had mentioned decide to end her. Then a deep gut-eating dread settled over her when she realized she knew exactly who the gargess had meant. There was only one doctor Demona had ever had dealing with. That doctor was one Anton Sevarius, the most brilliant geneticist on the planet. He was also the most insane person she thought she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. It was he who had turned her brother and his fiance into mutates. The question is, what might he do to me? It was a question that caused her stomach to openly rebel once more. This time, she nearly lost as she doubled over and rested her hands on her knees.
When the heaving of her stomach finally passed, she began to look around her cell once more. The panic was subsiding slowly as her detective training took hold. She took note of each and every detail of her tiny prison. There was a skylight above her, but it was made with re-enforced glass, the kind that looked like it was poured over chicken wire. There would be no getting through that without one of the clan's help. Even as she thought of her friends, she realized they would not be coming for her any time soon. The sun was rising. She was willing to bet that skylight was there to torment her. Creating false hope was one of the oldest tricks in the book. Even some cops used it to squeeze information out of their prisoners.
/
Her first days in the cell passed uneventfully for the most part. Food was delivered through a slot at the bottom of the door. A pole was used to push it into her reach. The chain drew her up roughly three feet shy of actually reaching that door. She suspected this was to prevent her from investigating the electronic lock so clearly embedded in the one solid section of wall in her cell. It was too bad they had stripped her of everything that might have proven useful. She could have gotten free of the chain at least. Someone had apparently patted her down while she was unconscious and taken not only the utility knife she carried, but her bomber jacket as well.
The moment that thought crystallized in her mind, another followed it. The communicator was gone with the jacket. There was no way to let the clan know she was even still alive. Goliath would be worked into an uncontrollable rage by now. She had heard Demona declare her intentions. The gargess had meant to kill her the following day while Goliath slept. He would think her dead these last few days. The gargoyle would not care if he died trying to destroy the immortal female so long as he could avenge Elisa before death claimed him. Her heart broke at the thought of losing him too. It shattered when she realized he must be feeling so much more pain in that moment. Not only had he lost their child just as much as she had, but he must have thought he had lost her as well when he awoke and she was not there. Now he would think he had lost any chance of ever reconciling their relationship. They had not argued, they had not fought or screamed or wept for their lost child. They had simply sat in silence the night of the wind ceremony. Since then, they had barely spoken to each other.
Elisa did not want their last memories of each other to be of sullen silence. They were so much more than that. There was fire and passion between them, there always had been. She did not, would not, back down in the face of his anger no matter how loudly he bellowed. Smiling faintly to herself, she thought of the first few months after the clan awoke. Goliath had raged at her when she had mentioned them leaving the castle. He bellows enough for ten gargoyles, she thought ruefully, but he was hers and she was his on a level like no other relationship in her life. Sometimes, she could almost believe he could hear her thoughts. Maybe he could. The clan was surrounded by magic, after all. If he could, she prayed that he would at least sense that she still lived.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of the door's rails squealing in protest. It snapped her attention back to the other side of the small cell. The last person she had thought to see stepped in and closed the door with a solid clang. The woman wore a maniacal expression that bordered on a mix between hysteria and pure insanity. Her brown hair was short and as wild looking as her eyes. Hyena never looked so intimidating.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in...or did it puke you up. Damn, Maza, you look like hell," Hyena cackled as she picked absently at her cybernetic nails. "I guess it doesn't really matter what you look like right now, huh. When I'm finished with you, you'll look like last week's hamburger."
Elisa realized in short order that she had nowhere to go as the woman advanced on her. There was no escape, both the cage and the chain prevented that. She would have to fight her and pray she won. The alternative was unthinkable.
/
Hyena slowly advanced on her prey, licking her lips in anticipation. How long had she wanted to get her hands on the detective? Was it five years already? She supposed revenge truly was a dish best served cold, after all. The cyborg meant to savor every ounce of flesh she carved from the woman. It would almost be like taking a new lover.
The first strike of her metal hand across the detective's face was delicious. The metal rang hollowly off the bone. She watched as the woman wobbled backwards, a thin line of blood forming high up on her right cheekbone. How she wished they would let her kill this cop, but she had her orders and the pay was exceptional. She was only to beat her until something happened. They had said she would know what it was when it happened. She blew it off. Whatever it was, it did not matter so long as she had a chance to extract her pound of flesh from the woman who had sent her to prison.
As the detective regained her senses, Hyena struck again. This time, her fist landed in Elisa's gut and the woman doubled over. It was too easy. The cop did not seem able to fight back. She did not think the woman was still suffering the effects of her concussion after so many days. If something did not give soon, she was sure she would become bored with this whole exercise. Her time was growing short as it was.
/
Elisa's vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of stars when Hyena's open hand struck her cheekbone. She had had some time to recover from the ordeal of being brought to her current hell, but it did not seem long enough. The crazed cyborg was almost more than she could handle under normal circumstances. When the other woman's fist landed in her gut, she doubled over with a wheeze. Her own swing was weak, but she fought back as savagely as her dazed senses were capable. The metal protecting Hyena's soft tissue proved impervious to her punches and kicks. The cybernetic woman just kept coming. Each punch or kick that made contact with Elisa's flesh left her struggling to recover. She found herself unable to defend against the barrage of attacks Hyena delivered. Her fight was weakening and she struggled just to maintain her footing. The green flames of Avalon's magic licked at the back of her awareness, but she was not sure how to access that power. Somehow she felt that if she surrendered to it then she was giving up some vital part of herself. She feared she might lose the core of who she was in those flames.
Eyes pinned to her attacker, Elisa watched for an opening as she sidestepped a particularly nasty kick. The second the opening presented itself, the detective struck. She delivered a solid punch to the woman's unprotected kidney and another to her ear. Hyena screamed and all but collapsed before slithering away from her like some distorted insect. It was all Elisa could do to remain upright as the other woman regained her composure just out of her reach.
/
Hyena had had enough of this session. The cop was vicious, far more so than she had been in previous encounters on the streets. The woman was no longer aiming in defense, she had taken it to the next level. To her way of thinking, Maza was aiming to kill. It made a certain kind of sense, after all. What did she really have to lose? She was in a cage with no hope of rescue and no chance of escape. The only alternative was to take out her tormentors. It was something Hyena herself would have done. She could almost relate, almost sympathize with her victim. Then she remembered the countless times the other had sent her before a judge or to a prison cell and she snarled, renewing her efforts to inflict as much non-lethal damage as possible.
"Lights out," she shrieked and caught Elisa squarely in the nose. Given the detective's weakened state, it did the trick. She dropped like a stone.
A moment later the door squealed in its track to admit the other half of the cyborg duo. Jackal stopped before Hyena and glanced at Maza's still form before lovingly caressing his sister's cheek. He tisked before purring,"He said 'non-lethal' damage, sweet sister."
"She's breathing," Hyena growled in indignation.
"And she needs to continue. He won't be pleased if she stops." Jackal's tone betrayed nothing.
"You're too dramatic. Get your panties out of their twist, dear brother. I'm not gonna kill her, at least not yet." Hyena flicked a nail at him as she stepped past and through the door.
"See that you don't. He still wants those samples."
"I don't see why he wants so many samples. What's gonna change between now and the next session?" Hyena grumbled as her brother stepped out behind her.
The door clanged shut and Elisa was left alone as their voices drifted away.
/
Hudson sat in the worn easy-chair watching Maria's young daughter. His mind wandered retrospectively. Thoughts of two generations of hatchlings he had had a hand in raising toddled across his mind. To his way of thinking, the trio had hatched little more than four decades ago. By human standards, they were barely twenty. It struck him then that Brooklyn was now much older since his trip through time.
Time, so much of it had slipped by him. He watched the small human girl intently for a moment. There had been a time not so long ago when he had watched another human child grow and play as this one did. Pity, he thought, that her father taught her t' fear an' hate me people in childhood. This girl would never need to overcome such prejudices. She was learning that gargoyles were as much people as her own race.
Now the girl approached him fearlessly, a smile lighting her young face. Unexpectedly, she climbed into his lap and began tugging at his beard. A smile slowly spread across his own face at her actions.
"What is it, lass?" Hudson asked softly.
"Papa Hu'son, why you got wings?" the small girl asked inquisitively.
Hudson chuckled softly at her vocabulary. At four years old she lacked the ability to pronounce some letters. The fact that she insisted on calling him 'papa' struck a chord tethered directly to his heart.
She had asked this question a few times already. It seemed to him that she liked hearing the word even though it was beyond her speech. Gently, for perhaps the twentieth time, he said, "I be a gargoyle, lass. You know that."
Smiling, she continued gently tugging at his beard as she snuggled into his chest. He had not expected her to curl up and drift off to sleep in his lap, nor had he expected his own nap to overtake him. That was how Maria found them.
/
Maria Chavez returned home from her last minute shopping trip to find Hudson and her daughter fast asleep in the only easy-chair she possessed that was sturdy enough to hold the aging gargoyle. She smiled warmly at the sight and could not resist the urged to dig her old camera out of a draw. The flash secured the image and the two never flinched. She was glad it was a Polaroid. There was no way she could have explained the gargoyle appearing in the image to a photo lab.
As the image resolved itself, her smile faded. She glanced at the file folder lying on the counter next to the newly developed picture. It was a missing person's file, Elisa's file. The detective had been missing for a couple of months now. The entire network of the NYPD had joined forces and searched the city. The gargoyles searched by night, expanding their patrols and reporting directly to her. No trace had been found of the woman as of yet. She hated to admit it, but the trail had gone cold. There was little hope of finding her alive this late in the game and they all knew it.
Guilt plagued her for taking a night off, but she needed it. She needed to spend some time with her daughter. Hudson had needed some down time as well. His wings, strong and skilled though they were, had been aching so much that he could barely hold onto an updraft. They had grown much closer over the last few months. He had managed to crawl into and fill a hole in her heart. She was not quite sure how that had happened or even when exactly. The when and how really did not matter, she realized. The fact that he had completely and inescapably captured her heart was what counted.
Maria meant to ask Hudson about Goliath once he awoke from his nap. She knew the big clan leader had endured a good many nights of surgeries to repair the damage Demona had done to his wing. He was recovering, but she was unsure of how well as she had not spoken with him. He could not yet join the clan during their search and patrols. Instead, he had secluded himself somewhere inside the Eyrie building. She was concerned with how hard he was taking Elisa's disappearance. If she had wandered about his feelings for the detective before, she knew for a certainty now; he was in love with the woman. She suspected he must be an emotional wreck. That must be why he had refused to see anyone during his own recovery.
Hudson must have noticed the change in her mood through some bizarre atmospheric change in her home as his eyes slowly rolled open. His good eye pinned her to the spot with growing concern etching into his face. He cradled Nina close as he levered himself up out of the chair. To Maria, his care with her daughter looked to be second nature. He was so good with the child and she could not help but wander how he must have been with the clan's hatchlings.
"Ye look as though ye ate a sour cake. What be the matter, lass?" Hudson asked softly.
Maria sighed and indicated the file folder with Elisa's service photo attached. Hudson glanced down and nodded after a moment. They both knew Elisa's absence weighed heavily on the clan as well as the police force.
"Aye, 'tis a shame without a doubt. Elisa be a fine lass. Goliath's not the same wi'out her." Hudson carefully, delicately dragged the file closer with a talon tip so he could see the image more clearly.
"I've been meaning to ask how he's doing. Is Goliath able to glide yet? Will he glide again? I can't imagine how hard all this must be for him." Maria was rambling, she knew she was. It was not in her nature to ramble.
Hudson glanced up at her and realized she was near to tears. Elisa's disappearance had hit her hard as well. Almost as hard as it had hit Goliath, he realized. Stepping around the counter, he tucked Nina against one side and wrapped his free arm around the human woman. "'tis a fine mess Demona made o' things this time..."
"It is... As much as I worry for Elisa, I can't help but wander...," she left her concern unspoken.
"Aye, lass, Goliath will glide again, but it be takin' more time than he wants. The wing be weak and unweildly some nights. He struggles to retrain it."
"It's good to hear that he'll be able to glide again." Maria sighed, her emotions in hand once more. "We best put her to bed or she'll sleep in your arms the rest of the night."
"I dinna mind, lass. The wee one is no trouble." Hudson chuckled and then sobered when Maria dragged her fingers through his beard with a look of longing pinned on her face. It was the first time she had made such a move since he had explained gargoyle 'kisses' to her. He met her eyes with a question in his good one. When her hand strayed to the locks draped over his shoulder he voiced that question very quietly. "Are ye sure ye nu wat ye be doin', lass?"
"I'll make it up as we go...," Maria said as she leaned into his chest and dragged the lock of hair she had been toying with forward over his shoulder. A moment later, she tugged the end of his beard as she stepped back, indicating the direction she meant him to go.
When he realized she meant for him to follow her down the hall toward the back of the house, the only sound that uttered from his lips was, "Oh..."
/