VVVVV
Consequences Part One: Fortune and Men's Eyes (3/3)
a Gargoyles story
by Merlin Missy
Copyright 1997, 2005
PG-13
VVVVV
Brooklyn soared upwards, narrowly avoiding a collision with an
office building. It was smaller than many of the mid-town
buildings, and with a start, he realized his "vigilant" patrolling
techniques hadn't clued him into the fact that he was heading out
into the 'burbs. Come to think of it, if he went out much further,
he'd be near the Mazas' place.
Something Elisa had mentioned came back to him. Her sister was
home on a four-day weekend, and had brought a friend along.
Damn, that meant no popping in for a quick hello.
He veered off just as the house came into view, then circled
back over it again. Someone was coming outside. Beth? He'd met
Elisa's sister briefly when she'd come home for a week in the
summer. Somehow, she'd avoided inheriting the temper Elisa and
Talon demonstrated, while keeping much of the same awed wonder at
the world. He had speculated aloud how such different people could
be in the same family, regretting it an instant later as he saw
Angela's flinch. No wonder she hated him.
As he flew a little closer, he could see it wasn't Beth, but
another human female. Oh well. She headed out along the sidewalk,
hands shoved in her jacket pockets, and concentrated on the ground.
Not bright, he thought. Even out here, people didn't generally walk
outside alone, especially females. It just wasn't done.
Still, it wasn't his problem. Whoever it was had the right to
throw away her life as she pleased.
Which didn't explain why he turned back again and started
following her. She had an easy gait he found difficult to maintain;
gliding slowly was more difficult than going fast. He flew past her
twice before pulling up higher. He could watch from safety up here,
and still have plenty of time to move in should anything bad happen.
As he watched, his thoughts drifted to Angela again. The night
before, he'd seen her reading in the library, and had almost gone
over to strike up a conversation. Something about the play of the
light from the fast-waning moon about her face and hair struck him
dumb in holy terror. In that moment, she was divine, and he a poor
wretch who believed himself worthy of the attentions of a goddess.
Unable to leave the castle, he'd run to the topmost tower, his
breath sobbing in his chest, trying to reconcile too many thoughts
and feelings into a manageable form. He'd spent most of the night
up there.
His reveries nearly threw him into a tree. He pulled back and
made an awkward landing several feet behind the woman. He ducked
into shadow.
She pulled up straight and looked back. "Who's there? Beth,
is that you?"
As if she wasn't moving at all, she pulled her body around to
a warning stance, scanning the area. He hid himself deeper in the
darkness, wishing he was anywhere else.
She walked closer to his hiding place. "Come on," she said,
her body still tensed, but less so than before. "Let me see you."
He debated quickly. He couldn't allow her to see him; all they
needed PR-wise was to be seen as suburban stalkers as well as
threats to the city proper.
"Don't come any closer," he said in a gruff voice.
She stopped. "All right."
There was silence for several minutes. Maybe she went away,
he hoped. He allowed himself a peek. She stood in the same
position, not even seeming to breathe. He pulled back quickly,
heart racing. He had to get out of here, but the house he was
hiding beside had aluminum siding. Not good for climbing.
"Are you going to stand there all night?" she asked. There was
something off in her pronunciation, but he couldn't place it.
"If you are."
"Why don't you come out here into the light? I promise not to
hurt you." She wasn't going to hurt him? That was a new ... She
hadn't seen him. She still didn't know what he was.
"I'd rather not," he said.
"You really shouldn't be lurking in dark places," she replied.
"It isn't safe to be out here by yourself at night."
Wasn't this what he had just been telling himself about the
human? "You're out here."
"I can take care of myself."
"So can I."
"All right then."
"All right then," he repeated. Again they descended into
silence. This time he didn't look to see if she was still waiting
for him. He knew she was. "Look, I should probably get going."
"Then go."
"You're still standing there."
"I'm not moving, either."
"Then could you close your eyes?"
"Would you close your eyes if our situations were reversed?"
He tried a different tack. "I know Beth."
"You heard me say her name. You could have gotten it from
there."
"Would I also know that she has a brother named Derek and a
sister named Elisa?"
"Maybe."
He sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he
thought. "Listen, Elisa and I are pretty good friends. She's a
cop, she works for the 23rd Precinct like their dad used to before
he transferred, and Derek did before he went to work for Xanatos.
Derek's girlfriend is named Maggie, but I doubt you've met either
of them yet."
Another long silence. "Okay. I can buy you know Elisa. So
why are you lurking in shadows?"
"I don't like to be seen."
"Why not?" She took on a teasing tone, "You got a big nose or
something?"
He crossed his eyes and stared at his beak. "Something like
that. So can you please close your eyes or turn around so I can
leave?"
"You still shouldn't be walking around these streets by
yourself."
He swallowed his "I don't intend to be walking," substituted
it with, "Neither should you."
"Then let's walk together."
"Ummmm. I really don't think that's a good idea."
"I'll turn around, if it will make you feel better."
"That would help." He waited another few seconds, then chanced
another peek. Sure enough, she'd turned her back and was facing the
darkened street. Cautiously, he stepped from the shadows and looked
for a good placed to climb.
"What's your name, by the way?" She kept her back to him.
"Call me ... Brook." That would work.
"Sarah."
"Nice to meet you," he muttered inanely, not seeing a hand-hold
near. Not good.
"Brook, have you ever been in love?"
He stopped looking, saw instead the moonlight streaming into
the library. "Yeah."
"Did it work out?"
The Mazas would probably let him climb to the roof at their
place, assuming he could get there and talk to them without this
person seeing him. Why did he let himself get into these
situations? "What?"
"Did it work out? Are the two of you still together?"
"No." He might be able to make do with a fence.
"What happened?"
He was about to snap at her, tell her he had more important
things to do than worry about relationships. Then he remembered how
he'd gotten out here in the first place. A bitter smile touched his
beak and was gone.
"The first time I fell in love, she didn't love me back. I
didn't want to see it at first. She fell in love with someone else
after a while. Nothing I could do."
"What about the next time?"
"She still hasn't made up her mind."
She made an assenting sound. "Neither has mine." She made to
almost turn around, then remembering, stayed as she was. "What do
you do when you think you've found the most wonderful person in all
the world, someone warm and funny, and passionate about everything,
someone beautiful inside and out, someone talented, someone special?
What do you do when your heart breaks every time you hear one voice
on the phone, when your mind is on fire when you see one face?"
"You fall in love," he said simply. That was it, exactly.
She looked down. "And what do you do when you don't think that
person loves you back? When you think you would die without her,
but you know she would be fine without you, maybe even better off if
you left her life completely?" He heard tears in her voice, held
firmly back but present.
What could he do? Did he put himself through the hell of
watching her the same way every day, wrapping up his existence as
simply an extension of hers? Dying with every word she spoke to
Broadway or Lex, the way he had died in part when he'd first seen
Maggie with Talon?
There was only one thing to do.
"You let her go," he said to himself. "If she decides she
loves you, she'll come back. If she doesn't ... " Pain, physical
for all its having stemmed from his emotions, burned him. "If she
doesn't come back, then at least you know for sure."
"Yeah," she said, reminding him he wasn't alone. "I should
probably get back to the house. And you should be getting wherever
you're going, too."
"I'll walk you home."
"All right."
They said nothing else as they walked. She kept her back to
him during the short distance. When they reached the lit front
stoop, she said, "Thanks, Brook."
"Thank you," he said.
"Now can I look at you?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
She shrugged. "Don't take this the wrong way, but Elisa has
some very strange friends." She knocked on the door, and he slipped
around the side.
He watched as Peter Maza answered the door and let her back in
the house. He waited a few moments, then jumped onto the railing
to the deck around back. Another leap took him to the roof, and
from there, he had just enough altitude to get aloft.
VVVVV
The city was almost preternaturally quiet tonight. There was,
as usual, the low muttering of automobiles along the streets, the
sounds of humans bustling along the sidewalks and in their homes,
the unexplainable but always present hum of electricity beneath it
all. No screams called for attention, no glass shattered in the
darkness, no footsteps dashed away from the scene of a crime. At
the same time, there were also no noises of robbers being stopped
in their tracks, muggers in the park brought down amid the near-
silent flapping of dark wings. The other winged protectors of the
city were as silent as the town itself tonight. Angela wasn't sure
whether to be grateful or concerned.
It was time to head back towards the castle, check in with
everyone, maybe catch a snack in front of the So Late It's Early
Movie on Channel 13. With the boys.
She veered off her path.
Goliath had given the okay to go out into the city again. His
reasoning was unspoken, but known to the rest of the clan as if he'd
made an announcement. Sure, they needed to protect the city. Of
course they needed to show the citizens how useful they could be.
Yes, the crime rate had risen a bit in the short time since their
sudden relocation to the Eyrie Building. Those were all valid
excuses. The real reason he was letting them out to patrol so soon
was that if they remained cooped up inside, cabin fever was going to
become the Black Death of the 1990's.
The clocktower loomed before her. Carefully, she touched down,
then took a long look at the place she had called home since her
arrival in Manhattan.
Little had been cleared away; the ruins of their lives remained
in charred piles of ash and soot at her feet. Was this what her
parents had felt upon returning to the castle that awful night? All
the gargoyles she knew were still alive and well; they had found
only rubble bearing the grim faces of fallen friends. No wonder
none of the others had come back here yet. This had been their home
for two years, and to lose it so utterly, so quickly, and so much
like the way the first devastating loss had come had to be a numbing
blow.
It almost broke her heart to think of what the others were
going through, had already survived. But they had survived,
despite every chance they would not. They'd lived and thrived
because there had been no other options. Now they deserved a little
happiness. Her father had Elisa, and it was about time, too.
Hudson was content to relax when he could, fight when he needed to,
and otherwise get down to the delightful business of spoiling
Alexander, for lack of a better surrogate.
The Trio presented a different problem. She did care for the
three of them. She enjoyed the time she spent with them, all
together and teaming up for patrols or games. However, and this was
a big however, she had no intention of becoming the prize in
whatever invisible rivalry they'd set. After she'd yelled at them
a few months back during that incident with Brod, they had behaved
themselves. The forced isolation of the past nights had brought
much of the competition back, unfortunately, though on a subtler
scale than before. Instead of openly vying for time with her, they
were spending time doing things she might like to do, so that if she
chose to, say, be reading in the library, she'd already find
Broadway there poring over a book.
The difference wasn't entirely on their behalf, either. She
saw through their new game as easily as she'd seen through the old
one. This time she was playing it, too.
For no reason, she'd say something out of the blue that she
knew would get a reaction from whichever of the young males she
was near, then act as if she didn't know what she'd said. She
couldn't say why she was doing it. Something inside of her pushed
her insistently towards something she was not entirely certain she
wanted, but was drawn to nonetheless.
It was nearing the time to take a mate.
She'd been avoiding the thought for so long, to hear it stated
so clearly in her own mind shook her. She perched on the ruin of
the stairway and pondered what to do about it.
Each of the three was wonderful in his own way. Lex was
brilliant, and had an air of wonder always about him that she found
endearing. On the other hand, although she had no doubts that he
liked her, she was certain he was far more in love with his laptop
than he would ever be with another living being.
Brooklyn, she knew, would always put her first, should she so ask
him. He was smart, in a different way, brave as anyone she'd ever
known, and steadied his impulsive nature with a level head. In other
words, he was a perfect second in command. But he had also been in
love with Maggie, and still might be, considering the way he tried not
to look at her when they visited the Labyrinth. He was in love with
being in love.
Then there was Broadway. He had the same kind of innocence Lex
did, matched with the courage and steadiness that made Brooklyn a
leader. He was more thoughtful than the others, but more joyful as
well. Just before the craziness of the Hunter's Moon, there had
been a lunar eclipse, and he'd watched it with all the enchantment
of a hatchling. He wasn't what she'd considered handsome when she'd
been on Avalon; his body was too round, his face too plain. Nothing
at all like Gabriel, except in the ways that mattered most of all.
She loved Gabriel. She had always loved Gabriel, since they'd
been children, maybe since they'd hatched. He had been there for
her every night of her life, ever by her side, ready to take her
hand while they glided, or dive head first into the sea to come up
spraying salt water and laughing, always laughing. Yet he would
never leave Avalon, and she could never really go back. Not after
having tasted what the World offered. To do so would be to condemn
herself to a slow death.
For a moment, she understood Puck.
She needed to go back home, but this was home, wasn't it?
There was a noise behind her. She spun, damning herself for
not having paid closer attention to the here and now rather than the
past. She snarled! She would not be caught ...
"Whoa!" said Bluestone, tripping backwards in surprise.
"Whatever I did, I apologize!"
Adrenaline still pushing her system to maximum, she clenched
her fists, slowly gathering herself together.
"Sorry, Matt. You startled me."
"What are you doing here? It's not safe for you to stay around
the old haunts right now."
"This isn't my old haunt!" she snapped. He folded his arms and
raised an eyebrow. Shame hit her once more. "Sorry. Again."
"You're in a mood tonight. Care to talk about it?"
"No." How could she make him understand what was wrong, when
she was having such trouble defining it for herself? "But thanks.
I think I just needed a little time alone."
"Alone, or away from the Trio?"
"It's that obvious?"
He shrugged. "I'm a detective. It's my job to notice things."
"Mmm. So what are you noticing right now?"
He put on an investigative expression, looked her from head to toe
and back again. "You're debating to yourself whether you'd like a
computer geek, a cook, or your father's second in command as a
boyfriend, and the cook is an early favorite."
She stared at him. "How did you know that?"
"Which part? Angela, you're the only non-psychotic female
gargoyle in the city. If you're spending your nights away from the
rest of the clan, it's probably because you're trying to figure out
which one you want to spend all your nights with. Broadway fed you
waffles this evening. Elisa told me once that you love waffles. If you
let him make your favorite meal without objecting, he's got to be pretty
high on the list."
She hesitated. "All right. But how did you know about the
waffles?"
"You have a small spot of syrup on ... ummmm ... " He gestured.
She looked down at her clothing.
"Oh." She brushed at it, realized it wasn't going to come off
easily. She'd been around the Trio half the night; why hadn't one
of them pointed it out?
"So am I right?"
She nodded. "I wish I knew how to handle this. Things were
different on Avalon."
"You're not in Kansas anymore," he intoned. She stared at him
blankly. "Never mind."
She looked at him, trying to see him again for the first time.
"You're male."
"The last time I checked, yeah."
"How do you think I should handle the situation? I can't keep
putting them off forever."
"Um .. Angela, I'm probably the wrong person to ask. I'm not
even your species."
"I was raised by humans. My father is in love with a human."
"But the guys weren't and aren't. They have different ideas
about what ... things mean."
She pleaded with him. "Who else do I have to ask? I can't talk
with the three of them, not yet. Father gets flustered every time the
subject comes up." She half-smiled. "Sometimes I wonder how my
egg was ever laid." He said nothing but smiled in return. "Elisa has
helped a lot, but she's just learning, too. I can't imagine asking Hudson,
and that leaves who? Bronx? Xanatos? Owen?"
He sighed. "I wish I could help."
Her lingering half-smile faded. He was right. She was going
to have to deal with this herself. "I understand." She changed the
subject. "What are you doing up here, anyway? You didn't come up
to listen to my love life." She thought about it, and added, "And
aren't you and Elisa off tonight anyway?"
"Yep. I came in to get these." She noticed the manila folder
in his hand for the first time. "Then I wanted to come up here for
a few. Just because. If anyone asked, I came up to look for clues
in the bombing."
"But the Hunters confessed to everything."
"Yeah but we still don't know where Jon Canmore went. The
Captain has ordered us to find him, whatever it takes."
"Is that what you're working on?"
"Not tonight." He patted the file. "I have most of these at home,
but I wanted to look at this one. It's a personal investigation."
"On what?" Her curiosity was piqued. Besides, she would do
almost anything to keep from having to go back to the castle yet.
"Well ... " He looked uncomfortable.
"I won't laugh," she promised solemnly.
"Last year, before I met the clan, I worked on a homicide
investigation. Unofficially. The guy had been ripped apart. It was
grisly, but it reminded me of another case I'd come across in the back
files. I did a little digging, and found a pattern of serial murders
stemming from the 1970's. I didn't know what to make of it, so I put
together the pieces I did have."
"You thought it was the clan."
He nodded. "I thought it was the clan, working for the Illuminati. I
even brought in an old friend of mine from the Bureau to help, but he
and his partner dropped the case a few days later. He never gave me a
reason why. Then I met the clan, and I knew it wasn't them. I shelved
the investigation, but sometimes I bring it back out when something
new turns up."
"So what ... ? The Hunters. And my mother."
He shrugged again. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but
Demona's more than psycho enough to do it, and she's been around a
lot longer than the rest of the clan."
"How many murders have there been?"
"Fifty-four. I reopened my files in July when we found another
body."
July. Two months. "My mother was imprisoned two months ago.
We had her locked up so she couldn't hurt anyone."
"You're certain?"
"Positive." Part of her still ached at the memory of her mother's
betrayal.
"Damn. There goes that theory."
"What else do you have? Maybe I could help find your killer."
"Thanks. Don't take this the wrong way, but I doubt it.
Whoever he is, he's eluded us this long."
"Please?"
He sighed. "All right. Let me show you this file."
He pulled out his flashlight, illuminating the ruins of the
clocktower. He spread the file on the remains of what had once been
the television set, and pulled out a black and white photograph.
"Meet Eric Schnelton. Or what's left of him, anyway." She
swallowed deeply and listened. "Don't feel too sorry for him. We
have him linked to two murders of his own, both teenaged girls. The
investigating officers wrote this one off. Hell, vigilante justice may be
ten shades of illegal, but when it hits scum like this, most of us aren't
going to go out of our way to hunt down the killer. We have too many
other people preying on innocent citizens to spend resources on
catching people who are helping us."
"Too bad that doesn't extend to gargoyles. Especially since we
haven't killed any of your kind."
"Elisa and I are working on that."
"I know. Go on."
He turned back to the picture. "See the facial wounds?" She
nodded. "That suggests it was personal. Typically, murders
involving facial wounds have female victims. The murderer punishes
them by stealing their beauty. Since the victim was male, it could
mean his attacker was trying to make him suffer for killing those girls.
The rest of his wounds," he pointed to a particularly gruesome area on
what had probably been the man's torso, "look like they were made by
parallel knives, maybe even claws. Which was why I thought Goliath
might have done it. Long before I met him," he added quickly.
"If it was done by a knife or knives, it was very personal.
Shooting him would have been easier. To use a knife, you have to
be right there, in intimate contact with the victim. If the killer
didn't know Schnelton, he had to have known the teenagers."
"Can't you find him from that?"
"No. Their families and friends are clear. Besides, from what
I can tell, they had no contact with anyone who might have known the
other fifty-three victims. For a while in the 80's there was a pattern
around someone in the D.A.'s office, but she was murdered, not by this
guy, and her murderer was gunned down in the investigation. I don't
have a photo with me, but he had facial wounds like these.
"I've been trying to see if I can form some kind of psychological
profile of the killer from the patterns of the various murders. So far, all
I can tell you is that he's not a typical serial killer. Normally, a serial
killer has no regard for human life, and doesn't see his victims as
people. He has no remorse, because he isn't really hurting anyone who
matters in his mind. This guy does care. He only kills criminals who
prey on the weak. I think he might even have killed the last D.A.."
He closed the file.
She thought about it. "It can't be my mother. And it's not
Thailog. It's not the clan." She sighed. "I wish I could be more
helpful."
He smiled. "But then again, if you were I'd be out of a job."
He yawned. "I think I'm going to head home. I want to look over
these a few times, and then I might actually get more than an hour's
sleep."
"I should get back to the castle anyway. Do you want a lift
home?"
"I brought my car, but thanks." She nodded. "Be safe."
"You, too." She walked back out to the balcony, and with a
wave, jumped off the ledge, catching the breeze in her wings.
She landed at the top of the highest tower of the castle and
paused, steeling herself to what awaited. Then, she walked down the
stairs, slowly, wondering which of the boys she would encounter
first, and what she should say. Should she be friendly? Coy?
Casual? Ignore them? Perhaps she would simply ...
She nearly plowed into Brooklyn. He'd been sitting in the
middle of the darkened stairway; she hadn't even seen him until she
was practically stepping on him.
"Hi, Brooklyn." His head shot up, brought back to reality from
whatever musing had been entertaining him.
"Oh, hi Angela." His voice was friendly, but she couldn't help
noticing something else to it, something sad.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No. Just thinking."
"About what?" You're doing it again, her conscience told her.
You're playing. That's not very nice.
"Nothing much." His eyes remained cloudy for a moment longer,
then, like he'd taken off a party mask, or perhaps put one on for
the evening, his entire aspect changed while she watched. There was
not a hint of flirtatiousness, nor of the longing she associated
with him, as he said, "Pondering the nature of the universe is all.
Would you tell me about Avalon? You said you had fifteen rookery
sisters." He smiled a rogue's grin, and for once, it wasn't
directed at her.
"Yes I did." She smiled back. "I think you'd like some of
them, too." So he'd changed his mind, finally, after months of
being told she wasn't interested in any of them. Well, that did
make her problem a lot simpler.
"Let's go downstairs. I can tell everyone that way." That would be
the test. If he was still interested in her, there would be a
disappointment to her suggestion, however slight. She saw none. He'd
gotten over her. She felt nothing but happiness for him.
"Let's. Lex won't be around, but I bet Broadway and Hudson
would like to hear."
She knew her father had mentioned going to Elisa's later
tonight, but Lex was planning on staying in. "Where's Lexington
gone?"
Brooklyn snorted. "According to Hudson, after we went out on
patrol, Xanatos offered Lex and Broadway jobs."
"You must be joking."
"Nope. Broadway's going to be the night cook, when he's not
on patrol. Lex is down on the forty-seventh floor. The dragon only
knows what Xanatos wants him to do there."
"Something with computers, probably. I don't like it. I can
accept his allowing us to live here, but offering us jobs?"
"Yeah. I know. I think Lex does, too. It won't be as big a
deal for Broadway. He'd be in the kitchen anyway."
She smiled unintentionally, thinking of her friend surrounded
by his pots and pans, a book sitting on the counter to read while
he waited for something to come to a boil. The image was charming.
"He probably would."
They reached the living room, where Hudson was already parked
in his favorite easy chair, his great fingers slowly turning the
delicate pages of a paperback novel. "Lass, lad," he said amiably,
not looking up from his book. "Anythin' interesting in the city
tonight?"
"Quiet as death," she said. The television was on, set to CNN,
but the volume was muted. The newsperson moved her lips and cut to
pictures of an older human male. Oh yes, he was running for
President. Elisa had tried to explain the process to her: every
four years, her people chose a new leader, a king, who could be
elected again but only once. It seemed like a short time to Angela,
until she recalled Princess Katharine's tales of the turbulence
surrounding the Scottish throne. Given that, eight years was a
pretty long reign for a king.
Brooklyn nudged her. "Avalon."
"Right." They sat on the floor, and she began telling him
about her rookery siblings, especially her sisters. Broadway came
in a few minutes later, and sat with them, listening.
She wasn't certain how long she'd been talking, when she felt
rather than saw she was being watched by another. She didn't stop
her story, this one about getting lost in the great forest with
Ophelia and Hippolyta, but turned her head just so. Owen was in the
doorway, out of the light cast by Hudson's reading lamp, listening
as raptly as the boys were.
Stories of home, she thought. This is one thing that binds us,
the longing for what we once knew. The place of her childhood had
also been the place of his, presuming he'd had one, and while
Broadway and Brooklyn had been raised within and above these same
walls, they too pined for the familiar, in their case the names of
the good people who'd raised her clutch.
Something teased at her, a new thought undefined. Last night,
she'd noticed a very peculiar reaction when she'd been talking about
her parents. Making sure her audience was still listening well, she
said, "The arrow went high enough to be seen for miles away. The
Guardian saw it," check, no effect, "and tracked us down. I don't
know whether he was more angry at us for having gone off, or
relieved at finding us safe."
"If ye'd tried that at Wyvern, we woulda tanned yer backsides
for it."
"We know," said Brooklyn and Broadway together. Angela
laughed; she hadn't heard many of their earlier exploits, but she
had heard enough.
"We went back to the palace. Princess Katharine fussed over
the three of us," check, nope, "to make sure we hadn't hurt
ourselves, then scolded us for making them worry so terribly."
"So how much trouble did you get into?"
"Not as much as we should have. The three of us weren't
allowed to go out of the palace grounds for a month. The Guardian
suggested we also be sent to roost without supper, but the Magus
said we were still growing, and that we'd learned our lessons well
enough." Check. Bingo. Her observation was reinforced by the
sudden emptiness of the place Owen had been standing.
Angela now had the pieces to a very intriguing puzzle. She wasn't
sure what the final picture would be, but that's what made it fun. She
glanced at her friends, wondering whom to trust with it, if either.
Brooklyn would write it off as yet another reason not to trust the
humans and fays in the castle, and think no more about it. Lex wouldn't
be interested; if she could define her observations in terms of variables
rather than emotions, maybe, but otherwise, it wasn't his cuppa.
Broadway, on the other hand, loved mysteries. Figuring out why
certain things she said made Owen distraught, while not perhaps as
fascinating as cracking a seventy-year-old theft, would still be more up
his alley than his brothers'. She sent a smile his way, and did not notice
the well-disguised pain flickering across Brooklyn's face, and leaving
like it had never been.
Goliath came in, saw them sitting on the floor. "Where's
Lexington?"
"Here." Lex slipped neatly under Goliath's wing and parked
himself on the floor near them. "You're not gonna believe this."
"Xanatos offered you a job," said Angela.
"What!" asked her father.
Lex shot a look at Hudson. "You told." Hudson shrugged and
set down his book.
"A job?" asked Goliath.
"Yeah. He wants me to work with a research group down on 47.
Their last programmer moved to Oregon, and Xanatos thinks I can take
his place."
"It's all on the level, I assure you," said the familiar voice
as Xanatos came to the doorway and rested against it comfortably.
"We've heard that before." Brooklyn.
"Research," said Goliath, sounding displeased with the word.
Angela could sympathize. It reminded her of her stay with Sevarius
at Loch Ness. She shuddered.
"It's okay," said Lex. "They won't be testing on me. I'll just be
writing some code for them."
"Surely ye have other hirelings to do this 'code' for ye."
"Certainly I do, and frankly, many of them are better at it than
Lexington is." Lex frowned. "However, this particular group has never
been chosen entirely on what they know. Programming languages can
be learned. Fresh ideas are something else entirely. The people in this
group have been hand-picked from my various companies for their
ability to research creatively. I already have people who can design
engines based on current models. I want people who can look at a bat
and design an entirely new kind of airplane. They make their own
hours, and," he added with a smirk, "they have little enough contact
with the outside world that when I introduced Lexington to some of
them this evening, they thought he was a Vulcan."
"It looks like a really cool place," said Lex, more than a
little excitement in his voice. "And the project I'll be working
on sounds like a breeze."
"He'll of course be paid well for his time. Owen's already set
up a Social Security number for him. Think of it this way. The
public fears gargoyles on a variety of levels. Perhaps they'll
accept you a little more when you become tax-paying citizens."
Goliath still looked unsure, while Lex tried to stay calm. She
could see his eagerness, camouflaged as it was. Unless Goliath said
a definite no, he'd probably take it. Goliath didn't look like he was
about to say no.
Goliath ... was supposed to be at Elisa's tonight. Maybe he'd go
later, she thought. It was nearing dawn; he'd have to be going soon if
he was. She forgot the thought completely as Broadway opened his
mouth and announced his own employment opportunity, and the
discussion turned to other things.
VVVVV
He wasn't going to come. Elisa watched the growing light on the
horizon with an ache she could not express. He had said he would
come, spend the day at her place so he could be there when Derek and
Maggie dropped by.
It was her own damned fault.
Why hadn't she been able to say anything? The moment had come,
the one she'd been dreaming of for ages, truth be told. And she'd
frozen, then brushed it off like just another line.
I gotta go? Sheesh. Brilliant one there, Maza, real smooth.
For your next trick, you can tell him you're going to wash your
hair.
He'd scared her, really scared her. She'd been all safe and
warm and fuzzy with this new relationship, and then he'd changed the
rules. No one had told her he could do that. It wasn't fair. If
he were going to say he loved her, he ought to have given her fair
warning, let her prepare something.
Prepare something? Now she was sounding like some high
schooler on the debate team. The opposition has claimed love, Ms.
Maza. What is your rebuttal? I'd like to take this opportunity to
say ... What?
She mouthed the words, couldn't put sound to them.
She'd spent a few hours in the Labyrinth this evening, first talking
with Maggie, convincing her to talk to her parents. Afterwards, she'd
played with the clones. They had liked the toys, which made her
happier than she would let on. Funny, now that the clan was back at
Wyvern, she had no more reason to buy them things, so she would buy
them for their clones instead. That was different, though. They were,
as Maggie said, kids in grownup bodies. It was easy to want to spoil
them.
Wasn't there a little more, though? C'mon, Maza, admit it. You
know you'll have to sooner or later.
Delilah. Her ... daughter? Sister? Hell, competition? The
clone wore her face, spoke with her voice, even had her taste in
clothing. Sorta. At the same time, she had wings, and a tail, and
was visibly in a thousand ways not human. Elisa didn't know what to
do about her. She regretted having pushed Goliath into thinking of
Thailog as his son; did she dare even consider Delilah to be her own
child? If so, she ought to spend more time with her, maybe teach
her a few things. But Maggie and Derek had been the primary
care givers for the kids, and her assistance might not be taken the
right way. So she should stay away.
And lose the only child she could have.
She had considered the thought thoroughly, and had come to the
conclusion that she didn't need a baby to feel fulfilled in her life. She
had her friends, she had her career, she had someone who said he loved
her, and hell, if she wanted to get technical, she had Angela as well.
She was fully prepared to spoil Derek's and Beth's children, and then
enjoy the ultimate luxury of the childless: giving them back. Goliath
had said more than once that all the clan's children belonged to the
whole clan, so theoretically, if there were any eggs, they would be hers,
too. Given all this, she felt no overwhelming need to add to the world's
population.
At the same time, her DNA had already been pulled from her
body, merged with Demona's, and been given life in the form of a
very confused clone. The child was already there, even if she
looked like an adult. The next question became, what to do about
her? Try to be a mother? Try to be a friend? Try to get custody
before Demona got any bright ideas?
She heard wings.
He landed on the roof, a few feet away. He'd cut it close,
almost too close. The sun would be up in minutes.
"I was worried about you."
"I was detained at the castle. Xanatos has offered Lexington
and Broadway jobs."
She nodded, not really understanding, but noting it was too
close to sunup to debate the issue.
"I'm glad you came," she said. His face lit. She steeled
herself, opened her mouth, and again, the wrong thing came out: "I
guess you'll stay up here today, huh?"
"I suppose I will." Disappointment covered him like a shroud,
making her long to take it away.
"Goliath, I ... " The sun peeked over the edge of the sky,
freezing him in a less-than frightening pose. "I'm sorry," she
said, and with a brush of her hand against his solid face, she went
inside to bed.
VVVVV
At exactly eight pm, there was a knock at her door. They were
nothing if not prompt. Elisa shooed Maggie and Derek into her
bedroom, and motioned for her father to stop pacing. Then, ignoring
her own nervous pulse, she walked calmly to the door and peeked
through the peephole. Sure enough, the Reeds waited outside. She
unlocked the door, took a quick breath, and opened it.
"I'm glad you could come."
"It's about our daughter. Of course we came." Mr. Reed's face
and voice were stern, but Elisa made herself believe that there was
some hint of worry to it.
"Please come inside." When Mrs. Reed caught sight of her
parents waiting in the living room, she shrank a little against her
husband. "Mr. and Mrs. Reed, I'd like you to meet my family. These
are my parents, Peter and Diane Maza, and this is my sister, Beth."
Mom and Dad wore careful smiles, Beth a larger one. "Everyone,
these are James and Elinor Reed."
"Hello," said Mrs. Reed in a tiny voice.
"Detective Maza, you said you had information about Maggie."
Any imagined warmth was gone from his tone. His eyes were flat,
guarded, and he'd taken an aggressive stance. Elisa's heart sank. She
wasn't afraid; she was fairly sure she could take him in a fight, and if
she couldn't, Derek or Goliath, who was sitting quietly outside on the
balcony, certainly could.
"I do. I know where she is."
Mrs. Reed's head shot up, and her face filled with light, hope,
fear. "Oh my god. Is she all right?"
"Where is she!"
There was a rustle from the bedroom. "Close your eyes.
Please."
"No." Mrs. Reed's eyes were already shut. Mr. Reed stared
resolutely at her.
"It'll be easier if you do."
"No," he repeated.
"Jimmy, please." He looked over at her. To Elisa, she looked
like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting for the best present to be
opened. He gave a warning look to Dad, then closed his own eyes.
Maggie moved like a wraith from the bedroom, Derek a few steps
behind her. He paused to stand between Mom and Dad, while she came
to the step by the door.
"Open your eyes slowly," said Elisa.
"Mom?" said Maggie. Against orders, both sets of eyes snapped
open. Mrs. Reed saw her daughter, and her mouth fell wide. She
began to make gasping noises. Mr. Reed whirled to Elisa.
"What is the meaning of this!"
"Dad, it's me."
Mrs. Reed breathed, "Maggie?" Maggie nodded. She held her
hands out, and her mother stared down at the sharp claws. Then she
placed her own in them, feeling around the pads, and finally, she
raised her eyes to her daughter's. "What happened?"
"Remember that dream job I had with Gen-U-Tech? A few things
weren't in the job description." Mr. Reed stared at her, not speaking. "I
wasn't the only one changed. We were all fooled, first into joining,
then into thinking they would change us back." She gestured over to
Derek. Hesitantly, he moved to stand beside her. Mrs. Reed took a
step back, probably in fear; Mr. Reed maintained his silent appraisal.
"This is Derek Maza, Elisa's brother." He bowed at the neck,
which unfortunately also gave a superb view of the corded muscles
there. This did not help Elinor Reed's presence of mind. "He was
changed shortly after I was. There are two others like us, but we
figured two would be enough for you to see tonight." Besides, Elisa
added to herself, one was incarcerated, and the other was clone-
sitting.
"It's good to finally meet you," said Derek. He held out a
large paw to Mr. Reed, who looked as if it were diseased. Maybe he
thought it was. After a second, Derek pulled the hand reluctantly
back and drummed his fingers nervously against his leg.
Elisa chimed in, "We don't we all move into the living room and
get acquainted?"
Maggie sat down on the couch with her mother, while Elisa and
Beth grabbed the stools from the bar. Derek stayed near enough to
Maggie to make his presence felt, but far enough away to not
intimidate her parents as much. Maggie's father remained standing
behind the couch. Mom took the chair, Beth the floor, leaving the
stools for her and Dad. She perched on the edge of her seat,
angling just enough to glance out the window now and then.
She remembered suddenly that this was her apartment, and that
she, by rights, was the hostess. "Would anyone like something to
drink? I've got lemonade, soda, and I can put on the kettle for tea
or coffee." Beth sprang up to help her in the kitchen, leaving the
parents and the couple to their own devices for a few minutes.
Maggie began telling her mother an edited version of what had
happened, not mentioning that she'd been homeless when Sevarius had
approached her, and keeping all references to the gargoyles out of
it. She must have been planning this for a while, because the story
was flawless. Elisa remembered Elinor Reed mentioning that her
daughter wanted to be an actress.
She and Beth silently handed out the drinks to everyone as
Maggie related how they'd finally discovered it had been Xanatos who
had tricked them, and not Elisa. There was a large amount of
bitterness towards the man expressed in her few words. Elisa had
felt the same way, but was now in the uncomfortable position of
having to be grateful to him. She sipped her coffee, and smiled as
Cagney jumped into her mother's lap.
"Since then," Maggie said, "we've been living in some abandoned
tunnels beneath the city. They're warm, and they're safe for the
people who come down there to live. It's not paradise. We've had
a few problems. Fang got power-hungry and tried to take over, and
if it hadn't been for our friends, he would have succeeded. But
now, things have settled down to a dull roar. Derek and I have been
teaching some children how to read, and that's been a full-time
job." Derek rested his hand against her shoulder and squeezed,
eliciting a smile from her.
"They're a handful," he said, "but they're good kids. They
just need a little guidance now and then."
"That reminds me," she replied. "We need to have another talk
with Brent about not taking things apart that he can't put back
together."
Derek sighed. "The radio?"
"Good guess."
Mr. Reed, whose only word in the past ten minutes had been
"No," cleared his throat. "How do we change you back?"
"I really don't know," said Maggie. "Sevarius is more slippery
than soap on oil, and I refuse to trust Xanatos ever again." She
looked at Elisa, who could only watch back.
He muttered, "There's no way we're going to get you on a plane
like this. We're going to have to rent a car."
"What do you mean?" asked Maggie.
"When we take you home."
She looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. "Dad, this is my home."
She placed a hand atop Derek's, which made Mr. Reed's frown deeper.
"You live in a sewer and you call it home?"
"It's not a sewer. It used to be a research facility for one of the big
companies in town." So it did, Elisa remembered suddenly. She
wondered if Renard would be interested in cracking this particular
problem. Then she thought about Preston Vogel, and reconsidered.
She didn't completely trust Renard, but at least he had principles. The
same applied to Xanatos and Fox, and even Owen, though to whom
he owed ultimate allegiance was anyone's guess. Vogel, on the other
hand, was the closest thing she'd ever met to someone without a soul.
Oh, he had a conscience, and loyalty when he chose, but without the
inconvenience of any emotional attachment to either. He would really
be in charge of the project, if there was one, and there was no way she
would let him within a mile of the Mutates. Not even Fang.
"That's not the point, and you know it. You've had your fun
in the city, and look what it cost you. It's time to come back
home."
"I'm not going," she said. "My place is here. I'm needed
here, for the kids and my friends. Besides, if there's ever going
to be a cure, it'll be found in New York, not Cuyahoga Falls." She
glanced over. "And maybe most importantly, I'm not going to go
anywhere without Derek, and I know he's staying. So I'm staying."
"I see," said Mr. Reed. Mrs. Reed settled apprehensively back
into the couch, her eyes now on Derek. She wasn't the only one;
this was the moment.
"That's why we're here tonight," said Dad. "When we found out
about Derek, it was a shock, but it was easier knowing that he
wasn't facing this alone."
Mom continued. "Since then, Maggie's been like another daughter
to us. It's not a perfect arrangement, and won't be until they're cured.
At least for now, they're happy. That's what matters." Mom looked at
Derek and Maggie with affection, and offered a glance to Elisa. Then
she nodded her head, answering the unspoken question between them.
Elisa felt a part of herself unclench that she hadn't even realized was
bundled with nerves. In that one glance, Mom had spoken volumes, not
only about Maggie, but also about Goliath.
Derek said, "In a funny way, this may have been the best thing
that ever happened to me. If I hadn't undergone the change, I never
would have met Maggie, and my life would have been unbelievably
poorer." She smiled up at him. Mrs. Reed shuddered.
"That's very sweet," said Mr. Reed with blistering sarcasm. "I can't
describe how glad I am that my daughter was turned into a freak so you
could be happy."
The temperature in the room dropped a good fifteen degrees.
Dad was the first to speak. "There's no need to treat either of the
kids that way. They couldn't prevent their transformation, and they're
doing their best to live with it."
Mr. Reed turned to him slowly, deliberately. "Forgive me if I
don't share your enthusiasm. What would you say if your daughter
disappeared for months on end, only to show up out of the blue and
announce she was in love with a six-foot tall winged monster!"
Beth choked on an ill-timed sip of lemonade, and as Elisa
thwapped her on the back, she thought her father had actually handled it
pretty well; Mom had been the one to throw a fit. Derek's eyes, shining
with tears of stifled laughter, were on Dad, and when Beth could
breathe again, the two of them also fixed him with expectant gazes.
Elisa knew Derek wouldn't say a word, but she prayed Beth had enough
sense to keep quiet.
Their father looked from Mr. Reed to each of his children in
turn, his sight finally resting on Elisa. "I'm going to be held
later to whatever I say now, aren't I?" Three nods. Mom sat back
in her own chair, waiting. "I would tell her that I was happy for
her, and that I was glad she'd finally found someone special, and
that I will love her no matter whom she loves."
Elisa made herself not look at the window. Looking at the
window would be bad. Looking at the window might push her father
just a little too far under the circumstances. Instead she remained
outwardly very calm, her face not betraying how her heart flew at
his words.
Beth looked up from her seat, her own eyes alight, letting her
sister know she wasn't the only one who'd been awaiting approval.
Elisa was beginning to understand a great many things.
The same couldn't be said for Mr. Reed. He folded his arms.
"Well, isn't that enlightened?"
Dad was beginning to lose his patience. Elisa hadn't seen him
really go off since she'd been very young, even before Beth had been
born. They'd lived in an apartment then. Most of the people living
in their building had been nice, at least to her small eyes, but
some hadn't.
She remembered seeing spray paint on the door early one morning.
She hadn't been old enough to read, hadn't any idea what had been on
their door, but she had been old enough to remember how angry her
father had been, and she could still recall how dark his face was
when he'd thrown the teenaged boys responsible against a wall of the
building. He hadn't been a cop then, just a security guard. It
wasn't until afterwards that he began talking about doing something
more, started studying for the academy. That day, he had merely
been a man protecting his family, and she'd gotten scared enough to
start crying around him for nearly a year after the incident.
He hadn't grown that angry since, at least in front of her or
her siblings. She'd hoped never to see it again. Coyote, she
thought to him, you are part of Coyote. He can't touch you as long
as you remember that.
She watched him clench and release his fists, saw the tension
pass out of him as he did.
"Mr. Reed," he said quietly. "I realize this is hard for you to
accept. It was equally difficult for us when Derek finally told us, after
having been gone for so long. But we got past it. He's our son, and
Maggie is your daughter. They've decided to make the best of what
they have, and they've decided to do it together. We don't have to like
what's been done. Hell, it keeps me awake at night, wondering what's
going to become of them, of the rest of us through them."
"Then why don't you do something about it? You said this
Xanatos fellow was behind it? Demand he do something, and if he
doesn't, we'll sue him."
Uh oh. Now there was an option she really didn't want Derek
considering. While it would feel good to finally get Xanatos back
for the past two and a half years, she couldn't afford it. The
gargoyles had nowhere else to go, and if her family pushed him
enough, she would find herself in a very uncomfortable middle
ground.
And maybe Dad knew that. "We can't. The kids don't trust him
enough to find a cure, and if we bring them into a spotlight, they're
going to get burned badly."
"So you don't have hope for a cure." He turned to Maggie. "Then
you have no reason to stay in New York. You're coming home."
"We went over this already, Dad. I'm staying here."
"Margaret ... "
"Maggie, please do as your father says." Her mother's voice was
pleading. The peacemaker, thought Elisa. She's the one to smooth over
things so that they don't have to look at them. They really should meet
the Xanatos family. They could compare dysfunctionalities.
"No, Mom. I'm staying here. With Derek."
"You heard her, Elinor. She wants to stay here. She prefers
the company of freaks. She always has. Fine."
He grabbed his wife's arm, more strongly than was necessary,
and pulled her to her feet. "We're leaving. Maggie, if you aren't
with us by the time we reach the door, you can forget ever hearing
from us again." He shook his free hand at her. "You don't call,
you don't write. As far as we're concerned, you will have dropped
off the earth. If you'd rather associate with these people ..."
Mr. Reed imbued the word "people" with a kind of distastefulness
Elisa typically reserved for murderers, child molesters and
telemarketers. " ... you don't need to bother looking us up."
Maggie stood. Mr. Reed smiled thinly. Then she said, "Don't
let the door hit you on your way out."
He lost his smile. He turned away from her towards the door.
"Margaret, I'm giving you one last chance. Come home now."
"Get out."
Without another word, he walked out the door. Mrs. Reed paused
a moment, looking back at her daughter beseechingly. "Maggie ... "
"Goodbye, Mom."
The woman nodded, dropping her eyes from her daughter's, and
followed her husband out the door, closing it gently behind her.
Maggie watched them go, then carefully sat down on the couch
again, trembling. Derek slipped his hands to her shoulders, and
when he found no resistance, the rest of the way around her. For
several long moments, he held her like that.
"Maggie," said Mom in a quiet voice, "you will always be
welcome in our family. You are our daughter, too."
Maggie raised her head, and offered a smile to her, brighter
than Elisa could have thought she'd be able to right now.
"I know," she said, and she turned to Derek as she repeated,
"I know."
"Does that extend to all the in-laws?"
"Beth ... " Elisa warned.
Beth folded her arms expectantly. Her mother looked at her in
puzzlement. "Why wouldn't it?"
"No reason," she said. "No reason at all." Before Elisa could
ask, she got up and sat on the couch next to Maggie.
VVVVV
A key turned in the lock. Sarah remained in her seat on the
couch, but tensed to stand if she needed. Since the rest of the
family had left, she'd alternated between reading over her
International Studies text and pacing the floor like a caged
panther.
It was family business. It involved Derek, whom she still
hadn't met. She couldn't ask to go with them, with Beth. There
were secrets here, abounding, and the pieces she had simply didn't
fit together. Beth didn't trust her with the information she needed
to solve the puzzle, and she wasn't going to tell her parents what
they needed to know about her.
Love was supposed to be about trust, wasn't it? Trust and
commitment and letting the other one inside when you were hurting,
that was what she'd thought.
Maybe Brook had been right about letting go.
The door opened after a few seconds. Peter and Diane came
through first, both pairs of eyes searching for then locking onto
her. Beth came in afterwards, radiating nervous energy.
She'd told.
Sarah stood up and prepared for the worst.
"Hello, Sarah," said Beth's mother. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Yeah. I fixed a salad."
"Good." Her tone was strained. This was not going to be
pretty.
"Sarah," said Beth's father, "Beth told us about you on the way
home."
"We were a little surprised," said Beth's mother. "You're not
quite what we expected."
"I can imagine," she said quietly. At least they would be
polite when they kicked her out.
"This is going to sound odd, but we have a few questions for
you," said Beth's father.
Here it comes.
Beth's mother asked, "You don't have a pair of wings hidden
under your sweater, do you?"
"Ummmm ... No." She looked at Beth in horrible confusion.
What the hell?
"It's all right," said Beth. "Just answer them truthfully."
"Right."
Beth's father asked, "At the full moon, do you get a craving
for red meat and start howling?"
"Ew, and no."
Beth's mother asked, "We've seen you awake during the day, but
do you have an aversion to sunlight or garlic?"
"No."
"Do crosses make you blanch in fear?"
"I'm a Buddhist. No."
"Do you have a secret identity?"
"No."
"Can you shoot electricity from your hands?"
"No."
"Does the name Sevarius mean anything to you?"
"No."
"What about Oberon?"
"That's the guy from 'Midsummer,' right?"
"Are you allergic to iron?"
"Beth ... " This was getting weird.
"She's not allergic to iron, or garlic. She won't transform
into anything. She doesn't have any extra DNA floating around in
her system. She's a perfectly normal human being."
Beth's parents looked at one another.
"Human," said Beth's mother.
"We can introduce her to your relatives," said Beth's father.
"Family reunions!" said Beth's mother, clapping her hands
together.
"We can introduce the grandkids to your relatives," responded
Beth's father.
As one, they turned to her, wide smiles on both faces.
"Welcome to the family," said Beth's mother, drawing her into
a hug. When she finally let go, Beth's father took her hand into
both of his and shook it heartily.
When the parents released her, Beth gave her a long hug.
"One of these days, you're going to explain what all that was
about, right?"
"One of these days."
VVVVV
Elisa and Goliath sat on the roof of her apartment, watching
the sky. She lived too near the street to see any stars usually,
and even if she could, it was getting cloudy. Stormy weather, she
thought, inside and out.
Once Maggie had recovered from her case of the shakes, she'd
been okay. She wasn't as upset by the idea of her parents' leaving
her as Elisa would have been. She had already let go. Elisa felt
horribly guilty at having made her go through the ordeal tonight;
she had pushed her into it, and now Maggie's parents were gone for
good, without finding out they were going to be grandparents in less
than a year.
Hopefully.
Her own parents had taken the news the same way she had,
excited on the inside, mindful of Maggie and Derek's feelings
outwardly. She knew they had become aware lately that the
possibility of grandchildren was getting more remote by the day,
even more so if what she thought she'd seen in Beth's eyes was the
truth. The notion that perhaps they might beat fate just this once,
with a child who would be special no matter what his or her species
turned out to be, had to be impossibly attractive to them.
Derek had already come up with a few names, and had shared
them. Elisa had suggested Charles, as their way of saying "Up
yours, Darwin." Beth suggested Esmeralda. Dad liked Lia. Mom
hadn't said anything, but they knew she'd prefer Darren, after her
own father. Maggie said they would wait until after the baby was
born, and that ended the discussion.
A midwife lived in the Labyrinth, Ruth. Maggie was going to
spend what free time she had with her, seeing what could be done to
make the next several months bearable. No one suggested what had
to be on everyone's mind, that Maggie really needed to be under the
care of the best doctors in the city. Natural birthing methods were
great for humans, but for the time being, Maggie was not human, and
her child possibly less so. The more high-tech her care was, the
more likely both would survive. The only way to even consider that
would be to approach Xanatos, and that Derek would not do as long as
he lived.
Despite all this, despite the double-edged joy, even despite
the fact that Maggie had just lost her last ties to her life before
her change, Elisa could not remember a time when she'd seen her
brother's girlfriend so happy, and her own family happy with her.
Their world was moving onwards, with the same inexorable march
that marked the lives of every other family that had ever gathered
in a living room, or around a fire. Her parents had accepted their
children for who they were, and with them, the ones their children
had come to love. Elisa felt a sudden pity for the Reeds. They
would never know what their grandchild would be like, never be able
to take joy from seeing their daughter in love. By denying Maggie,
they had denied themselves the kind of vicarious happiness that came
from knowing someone beloved to them was herself happy, for better
or worse.
She turned her head. Goliath rested his own head on the
brickwork of the wall, his eyes closed. He wasn't asleep,
naturally, just resting, content to be with her, no matter what he
must think about what surely seemed her refusal of him. She studied
him in the dim light from her apartment. There had been times
during their long voyage that she'd considered his countenance as
he'd slept, finding him stately, noble. When he'd rested during the
day, it had been as a god in quiet contemplation. He was beautiful,
beyond her capacity for expression. She had tried to frame the
words once, so that he would understand what he was to her, how even
his imperfections made him more wonderful in her eyes. She'd
failed, miserably, had stopped before she'd said something dumb,
then wished she'd been able to say it anyway.
But really, couldn't she wrap everything up into one phrase?
"I love you, too."
He stiffened against her, his eyes opening. Then she saw an
ache in them he'd hidden earlier. "You do not have to say that. I
should not have pushed you. I am sorry."
She arched her eyebrow at him. "I don't say things I don't mean.
Sometimes I have problems saying the things I do." She moved
herself, so that her shoulder was against the wall, and cricked her
neck up at him. "I asked you if you knew how I felt about you. And
you did." She smiled, her chest tight with emotion.
"I always will. You do not have to tell me."
"Yes. I do." She willed him to understand, that she couldn't
say it because she'd known too many people who'd said it without
meaning it, that she was afraid of cheapening the feelings she had
for him by using words that were to often spoken casually and tossed
aside. She wanted him to know she could only say the words when
they rang true to the center of her soul, as they did now.
It seemed he understood. He tilted his head forward, to rest his
head lightly to hers and place his mouth at her cheek. She turned her
head and met his lips, touching them with her own before pressing into
them, parting her mouth, tasting the sweet tang of his breath.
The kiss on the castle had been quick, an unfamiliar first
movement into something new and wonderful. In her dreams, she'd
locked her mouth on his in a passionate intensity electrifying her soul.
This was neither. It was soft, tender, fumbling in a way which bespoke
the dearth of kisses he'd given before, but also filled with silver
promises of what could be, would be if only they dared. When they
finally stopped the touch, it was less a breaking than a motion from
comfort to comfort, as she lay her head against him once more.
There would be nothing else tonight, though she felt a growing
hunger within her that would only be satisfied with further touches,
further kisses, and embraces lasting not quiet moments, but long
intense hours. Tonight wasn't for that. Tonight was for being with
him, near him, listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear, watching
the shapes in the almost-seen stars.
The time would come for everything else. Soon.
VVVVV