.

Brood of a New Age

88.

"But, no. Listen. The shock collar is linked to the bars. And even if he got out, the electric shock would melt his brain. Yes, the remote control. But that's only to trigger the electric shocks or turn them off for a short time. To remove the collar you have to open it with a key and enter the four-digit code on the integrated keypad. The key is with one of my people and only I know the code. Dino. Dino, will you stop? It's - no. Why would it. ... aha... but - no. No. Okay. Spare me."

Tony hung up the phone.

"Boss? You all right?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine," his boss said in a tone that Glasses knew not everything was fine.

Tony took a deep breath and rubbed an eyebrow, unusually serious and taciturn.

"Castwaway leaked his number to every syndicate, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Then get it for me. I'd rather have a million in the bag and a whining Dolly than have it come down to a showdown with Dino tonight already. If I blow him and his followers away - it'll be with more preparation."

"Okay."

Unseen by either of them, and certain that he was unlikely to learn anything else that would improve the matter or change his next plan, Dante leapt from the window ledge and found a current of air carrying him higher. He had wanted to dash into Tony's hotel suite, eliminate his people, and dangle him out the window until he told him where the key and remote were and what the code was. But if Tony didn't even have the key, what good was the code to him? He could shake or torture the code and the location of the guy who had the key out of his soon-to-be ex-boss. And then kill Tony. But if he killed the boss, what became of Graziella? And what if any of the information was wrong? He would not get the right code out of Tony's corpse. But if he kept him alive, Tony would send his whole syndicate after Dante, and while Dante was casually taking out armed people, Tony or one of the other guys could kill Nashville. If Dante broke open the cage and yanked Nashville out, the collar would kick in and fry the kid into hash browns.

There were too many imponderables.

The whole thing was too intricate, especially if Dino AND Castaway and his Quarrymen got involved. It was hard for him to see anything positive about the last two nights but the most important thing was that Nashville was not dead yet. Not thanks to him and gallons of blood. But thanks to the remarkable acting talent of a little girl. He shouldn't have been surprised that she woke up earlier than expected after his cheap trick. He was a killer. That was easy and that rarely required calculation or planning. What he had done to Graziella and his Save-Nashville performance in front of Tony and his people did not fall under his expertise. No wonder it all went to shit. But it was time he showed responsibility - as alienating as he found the word in relation to himself. He needed help to save Nashville and, at the same time, get Graziella to safety before shit started to steam between Tony, Dino and the Quarrymen to the point where the kids were in the line of fire. He needed more than himself. He needed the rat-eaters.

He hoped that the automatic firing systems had not somehow been switched to Runaway-Gargoyle-killing when he approached. And apparently he was lucky. He landed on the ledge of the window that led to Luca's room. He first had to talk to his sister or Luca so that more persons than him (whom the other gargoyles neither trusted nor liked) would tell them that their chick had run away and was now sitting in a cage under Tony Dracon's loving care but soon worn out hospitality.

Dante pushed open the window, climbed in and tripped over the trash can that was there. Annoyed, he kicked it aside and looked irritatedly at the small jewelry box that had lain in the trash and now lay at his feet. Grumbling, he bent down, opened the box ... And felt himself tilting his head like an uncomprehending mutt when he saw the ring inside. A ring that was clearly not human-sized. He grunted and pocketed the piece - he couldn't deal with that as well. First, as many people as possible had to survive this night (at least the people he cared about). Since the room and the adjacent bathroom were empty, he made his way to the chapel where his sister probably was.

.

"Sir?"

Beningale's breathless gasp came over the in-house intercom, interrupting David and Fox in the process of changing out of their evening clothes. They had just come from one of those boring but unfortunately socially required dinner parties.

The billionaire couple briefly exchanged displeased glances then Xanatos strode to the intercom.

"Yes, Beningale?"

"We have ... an intruder. Two, actually."

"Who?

" They, they took me ... by surprise!" gasped the night guard on duty from the lobby, reminding Xanatos to tell Owen that night staff also had to complete their semi-annual health and fitness checks. Beningale sounded like he'd run a five-hundred-meter race.

"Who took you by surprise?" asked David, already seeing his feisty wife open one of the panels hidden throughout the castle and pull out a large-caliber weapon - God, he loved her so much!

"The children!" groaned Beningale. "They ran past me, doing binkies and zoomies and jinked like hares. The girl tripped me up! And-and now they're heading up!"

"Children?!" Briefly, David wondered if Beningale could share some of what he was obviously smoking with him. Until his next breathless words rang through the room.

"A teenage boy! And a little girl!"

Again the billionaires exchanged glances. Fox slid the gun back into its clip.

"Let me guess, Beningale. You can't get them back because they had the panic combination for the express elevator."

"Exactly sir."

Now his wife was beside him. "We'll take care of it, thank you," she said mildly.

Together the two strode briskly toward the clan kitchen where presumably most of the Gargoyles were gathered.

"Do we need more firepower? Because of that strange boy?" said David, not entirely serious as well as his wife when she answered.

"With a gargoyle clan in the house? ... I was a mercenary until two years ago and I do yoga every day. I am confident that I can protect you, David."

Knowing a few shortcuts, the walk from the billionaire couple's private chambers was shorter than the one from the elevator to the clan kitchen, so David and Fox got there first.

"We have company coming. Apparently Graziella forgot her pie plate and wants to pick it up," the billionaire announced with his most self-assured smirk.

Instantly all the gargoyles including Coldstone and Coldfire were on their feet.

"Graziella is here again?" gasped Broadway, looking from one second to the next as if he wanted to hide under the table. Not out of fear but out of shame. Angela took him by the hand and gave him her loving reassuring smile.

"What is she doing here?" asked Brooklyn grimly.

"Everybody stay quiet. No one raise their voice," Goliath said quietly with his typical stony facade. He would try with all his might to prevent them from traumatizing a small child again. Whereas the trauma was obviously not so great to keep Graziella away from the castle.

"What's going on?" asked Hudson, and Elisa was the only one who dared to move away from the table, obviously to mediate again.

"This is good. In fact, that's very good," she said. "We can gently question her about where she lives and we can help her get away from the Dracons."

"She must want something important if she's coming back here. She was so afraid of me yesterday."

"Not just of you, Broadway," Lexington said, looking toward the doorway as tensely as everyone else. Ten adult gargoyles, two of them cyborgs or robots, and four humans listened with varying degrees of tension and curiosity to the hastily approaching footsteps.

Then Graziella Dracon entered. No longer in a white dress and red cloak like Little Red Riding Hood, but in dark clothes with her hair tied back in a way that reminded not only Fox of her days as a mercenary. To which also her eyes sparkling with energy contributed. At her hand, and two heads taller than her, she pulled a black boy with Solero-yellow hair behind her. The latter, however, lost her hand when he stopped abruptly, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, in the face of so many nightmarish creatures, but Graziella continued to advance until she stopped in front of the table and looked up at Brooklyn, who was standing at the front.

"We have to save Nashville. I know where he is," she said with a firmness that had little in common with the delightful creature who had vacillated last night between charming coyness and then mortal terror.

"What do you mean, Graziella?" asked Elisa, stepping up to her with a smile.

The child raised her head to her.

"Nashville was captured by my dad. We don't have time, Detective."

Most of those present opened their mouths to utter something - mainly denials and expressions of disbelief - but Lexington beat them to it.

"That can't be," he said. "He's in the rookery. If he had - however - broke the door, my system would have sounded the alarm."

Graziella narrowed her eyes and flashed an arrogant one-hundred-percent Dracon smile.

"Then you have no idea," she hissed.

.

.

After he had found neither his sister nor Luca in the chapel and meanwhile feared all had already flown out to their Do-gooder patrols Dante wanted to look in the kitchen. Damn it, by now he would have even taken one of the Manhattan Gargoyles. Nashville's life was at stake. Maybe this very night Tony would make contact with Castaway and his creeps. Dante had seen the rallies and demonstrations. He didn't think Castaway would pay Tony a million just to kill the kid on the spot. No, a captured gargoyle-and probably his execution whether as flesh at night or as a statue during the day-would be something he would want to exploit for media attention. Nevertheless, everyone had to act quickly and mercilessly.

It didn't help that Dante got lost on his way to the kitchen. When he found himself on the level where the Maza babe and that red-haired GTF guy had questioned him back then, he still tried to make the best of it. He kicked in the door to the next room of the interrogation room. Brooklyn had taken off his arm bracelets with his knives before the interrogation and had taken them with him into this room. Later, he no longer had them. Dante headed for the only closet in the room, rattled the locked doors- and finally yanked them off the hinges. There- in a box were his bracers. He put them back on. On his ankles and arms. And waited for the wonderful feeling they gave him. This feeling of being ready and an anticipatory warm excitement. But nothing happened. With a practiced finger movement he let one of the knives shoot into his hand. He threw it up and caught it again. Everything was so natural for him ... and yet alien. Like a pair of removable braces, worn for years and then put back on after two weeks of summer vacation out of town- only to find that they no longer fit because the jaw and gum had shifted a bit - as stupid as that comparison was, that's how it felt to him. Dante puffed in annoyance. Not even that could be easy. He would get used to them again. They would begin to vibrate again and give him the old feeling of being fused with them once he drove them into the flesh of his victims. Yes - these were just small symptoms of alienation that he couldn't let bother him now.

Dante froze as he heard a growl behind him. Then a second. Throaty and low. None of the humanoid gargoyles. More bestial. And definitely hostile.

Dante took a soundless breath without turning around.

"Fu- Dog ... Bronx. It's all good. I'm not here to cause trouble," he muttered in a low tone, trying to make his magical voice work. Only to realize a moment later when he turned around that his voice was obviously not working on the beasts. Fu was the first to jump towards him with red glowing eyes where Bronx was still barking.

Dante jumped to the side into a corner. Without thinking about it and without wasting time turning around slammed his claws into the walls and crawled upwards. Only by this instinct did he escape castration by a hair's breadth as Fu leapt up and snapped at the area between his legs.

"Hey!" he screeched indignantly, leaping onto the closet and kicking at the green beast that jumped so high it almost got its foot between its teeth.

"Bad dogs! No, off! Shu shu! Have you gone mad, damn you!"

He fumbled in his pants pocket (extra deep and double stitched by the best seamstress in town) for his phone. Why hadn't he thought of that before!? - Sure, 'cause he was an idiot! He would call Grace. Or Luca. Or the dog catchers. Or the National Guard. ANYONE who would get the mutts off his tail. But Bronx thundered his head against the locker the second he dialed. The phone fell out of his claws - only to land in Fu-Dog's maw and be crushed into plastic and electronic junk by her jaws.

Now both watchbeasts were living up to their name as they tried to catch him as an intruder, and Dante didn't know if the metal closet was swaying under his panicked flailing or because both beasts were rattling against it, jumping up at it, dragging their front claws across the steel. Damn- Bronx just ripped a huge piece out of the metal- and gobbled it up!

"Fuck! Don't you know me anymore?! I'm-ahhh."

Dante clung to the locker as it swayed more violently again, even being dragged a good bit away from the wall by Fu as she sank her teeth into one of the shelves and yanked.

Okay- obviously the beasts still knew who he was. He hadn't bothered to make friends with them and that was probably why they were now after his gray scarred ass. Maybe he deserved that. But he couldn't use any flesh wounds right now. Before the closet could be completely shredded by Bronx or dismembered by Fu, Dante along with the closet let himself fall forward. Both beasts were buried under the sheet metal, yelping. But no sooner had Dante fled the room than he heard the beasts both chasing after him.

"I don't want to hurt you or your clan or the egg! I just want to save the kids, damn it!" he shouted gasping as he hoped he picked the way that led him outside and didn't get lost again.

He felt the ground vibrate under the mighty paws of the beasts rushing after him and imagined hot panting breath on the skin of his tail and on his wings, which he dragged behind him like the hem of a cape. God, if they got a hold of his wings-!

He turned a corner, slithering, plunged on, hearing both beasts skidding as well, and at least one crashing into the wall and howling.

He was aware of the knives in his splints, but the thought of using them against the lunatic beasts strangely filled him with as much grim inevitability as disgust - wherever that came from. He did not want to stab the mutts who were only guarding their castle and Signora Katana's egg. HE was the intruder. He had never felt this way before and he couldn't deal with it now. He only hoped that the barking and panting that was now approaching again would attract someone who would keep the watchbeasts from tearing him apart. Someone. Gargoyle, human. But no one heard the barking or his breathless calls. As if everyone was gone or in a completely different part of the building. After another flight of stairs, Dante slammed his shoulder into a heavy wooden door and stumbled out into one of the castle's outer courtyards. One of the beasts - he didn't turn to see which one and didn't give a shit - snapped at his calf and got hold of a tiny piece of fabric of his pants. He tore loose, whirled to the side as Fu Dog tried to knock him down with a giant leap and outstretched claws, jinked like a hare to avoid Bronx's opened jaws as well - and tumbled backwards over the parapet. He felt one of Fu Dog's teeth scrape against the ball of his foot, then he fell from the tallest building in the world. He put several hundred feet of distance between himself and the Manhattan Clan's guard dogs before he gathered himself enough to turn and spread his wings.

"Fuck. Fuck! Then it's just me against the rest of the world!" he screeched and flew back to the mansion.

I need to do some soul-searching as to why I keep making Dante eat shit (you remember: The Quarrymen tried to kill him. Broadway knocked him off his feet at first contact and yelled at him, Lex and Coldstone beat him up and Coldstone fried him too (- although the latter was Dante's fault), Goliath accidentally almost drowned him and broke some ribs trying to resuscitate him, Demona tried to kill him after pretty strenuous sex and now this hahahahaha xDDD).

What's wrong with me? I like him, I really do- he's the most reasonable character in the whole story I think. But maybe... I want to make him pay for killing so many humans ... or for humiliating Lexington and giving him a boner even though he's going to be Nathaniel's sweetheart in 25 years... maybe something like this. Must be something subconscious on my part.

Thanks for reading Q.T.