While the rest of the clan was being run around by the Quarrymen, Angela was delivering her egg in the rookery. She had spent most of the night, wrapped in Broadway's wings, sleeping heavily, when she was awakened by the tightening and pressing of her labor pains. A bit panicked at first, Angela was quickly reassured by Demona that she and her mate would get through the ordeal just fine together and Broadway seemed to hear his cue, for he quickly took to the serious business of comforting and supporting his love.
Demona stayed at a distance with the two younger sisters, wishing to give her daughter privacy while remaining near in case she was needed. The two youths chattered excitedly, but her mind couldn't attend to them. The shadowy outline of Angela and Broadway cast by the dim lamplight on the floor stirred old memories in her heart. Long ago, she had knelt before her own love, just as Angela did now, her arms clinging to the safety of Goliath's broad shoulders, lost in the sound of his heartbeat as she surrendered her aching body to the will of nature and the living result of their love. Normally, Demona would have defensively banished such useless, sentimental longings from her consciousness, but on this occasion she saw fit to indulge in them, letting the memories of a joy she had never been worthy of wash over her in the quiet moment.
When she opened her eyes again, the two younger ones had grown quiet and she heard Broadway beckoning them in a hushed voice. They all crept over to where the new egg lay glistening on a blanket on the floor. The outer membrane had the look of a frosted glass orb with clouds of pink and purpleish-gray floating inside.
"Should we move it to the table or cover it with the blanket?" Broadway asked a little anxiously.
"Not yet," Demona replied, "It's best to wait until the shell has hardened before we try to move it. But look!"
She knelt beside a nearby lampstand, gently pulling it over until the lightbulb nearly touched the ground, and removed the shade. She placed the bright bulb behind the shimmering egg, and the light shone through it, illuminating the bright swirls of color inside.
"Come see the life you have created," she urged them, and all four crouched around the egg, watching the miraculous, dark silhouette of the baby gargoyle growing inside. Less than two inches long from head to tail, the arms and legs were little more than short, wiggling stubs. Even so, the parents delighted in the lively movements as the little one seemed to make itself at home within the newly forming shell.
"Oh, little one!" Angela whispered euphorically, "I love you all ready!"
They had precious little time to enjoy the beauty of the new egg, however, for they realized the sun would be rising soon.
"I don't want to leave," Angela protested softly, but Demona urged her.
"You must. You'll need the sunlight to rejuvenate you."
Broadway agreed and gently lifted her and headed to the tower while the others followed along.
"My leader?" Linnet asked her in a voice laced with uncharacteristic timidity.
"Yes?", she replied absentmindedly, still caught in the emotions of what had just transpired.
Linnet grasped Demona's claw urgently, pulling her to an abrupt stop. Demona was surprised to find her charge's expression distressed, but Linnet's boldness returned as she spoke in a hushed but resolute tone.
"I know you wanted us to find another home, but I do not want to leave this place. I will not leave, as long as Lexington is here. I will stay, and his clan will be my clan. His protectorate will be mine as well, even if it means I have to die for it. And if you tell me that I must leave, I'll not heed you. I will defy you."
Demona's eyes fell as the younger one spoke. Once she had finished, Demona turned and proceeded along the corridor.
"Come, it is nearly dawn," she said.
"Did you not hear me?" Linnet cried.
"I heard," she replied, still walking at a brisk pace as if she hoped to leave the conversation behind like an annoying fly.
"Will you not speak to me then?" she pleaded, pain evident in her voice. Demona stopped, and turned to her slowly.
"There is nothing for me to say," she told her, "Only you can choose your mate. No leader ever had the right to command such things from their warriors. If you were not of age, I could forbid it for a time, but you are old enough to know your own heart."
Demona paused, brushing Linnet's dark curls from her face, "Lexington is loyal, quick witted, and playful. I think you would be well suited to one another."
Linnet's eyes brightened at her leader's rather reluctant attempt at approval.
"Have you asked him what he thinks of this proposal?" Demona asked and Linnet looked down sheepishly.
"I haven't. I thought it best to wait until the summer ended to discuss it with him, so that we both know for sure that it isn't merely the whims of nature compelling us, but what we truly want."
Demona nodded at this sensible plan.
"But if he were to ask me before then, I would not deny him, or ask him to wait even a moment," she told her, "I have already chosen him in my heart."
They only made it as far as the courtyard, before the first blades of daylight sliced through the smog of the city and illuminated the stone wall behind them with pink and orange sunshine. When Demona had uprighted herself after the pain of her transformation, she had to smile. Angela and Broadway hadn't made it to the tower either. They were still there in the courtyard, frozen in a tender embrace, hopeful smiles in their eyes as they gazed at one another.
"Well, at least you made it this far," she thought aloud, thankful that her daughter would get the sunlight she needed to rejuvenate her tired body. As she gazed at her daughter's joyful form, frozen in a last expression of love, Owen walked quickly past, with his master's young son in tow.
"I shudder to imagine what nightmarish tragedy occurred to put you into such uncharacteristically good humor," he observed snidely, but Demona was far too elated to take offense at his quip.
"My daughter has born her first egg," she told him proudly.
"Indeed?" Owen replied, raising a brow and studying her intently with piercing blue eyes, "It's hard to think of you and Goliath as grandparents."
"Grandparents!" she laughed, wondering what Goliath would think of that title. It wasn't too far off from the truth, she thought with amusement. Whether he liked it or now, he was now the clan elder. How she wished he had seen the egg before the shell hardened! She glanced up at the tower, expecting to find the familiar figure of her former mate there, but she was quite surprised to find it empty.
"Not so fast, there," she called to Owen, "Where is the rest of the clan?"
Owen's eyes narrowed at her in frustration. His young charge had abandoned all thought of whatever destination Owen had been driving him toward. The prospect of a baby gargoyle living in his castle had transformed the boy into a bouncing mass of questions, mostly pertaining to when he would be permitted to play with it, and he ran ahead of Owen toward the elevator in the hope of sharing the news with his mother.
"The other gargoyles were delayed by the case they were working, and were unable to return to the castle before sunrise," he informed her, "Mr. Xanatos is aware of their location, and he has sent several steel clan robots to guard them until sunset."
"What case were they working?" Demona demanded, infuriated that Goliath had managed to convince Blaze and Thorn to join them so quickly.
"As usual, I am not at liberty to say," Own replied, "I've been told to inform you that they are safe and well guarded."
Demona glowered at him, but did not argue any further.
"Since you have my attention for the moment," Owen continued, "I'm meant to inform you that Luach inquired about visiting you this morning, along with his father. If you like, I can see that coffee is ready for them in the conservatory."
"I would, thank you," she replied and Owen gave her another skeptical look.
"Of course, they will both be briefed on security protocol, and then I will show them up. Mr. Xanatos, after speaking with Goliath on the matter, felt that a security escort was not necessary, unless you wish for one."
"I've no fear of Luach," she replied haughtily.
"And Macbeth?"
Demona paused. Despite him being the sole mortal with the ability to end her life, she didn't fear Macbeth. Though she was surprised to hear that he would be accompanying his son for this visit, and she was wildly curious about what he wanted, she was confident that whatever it was, it was nothing she couldn't handle alone.
"No escort is necessary," she assured him, then turned quickly and made her way to her room to change.
In his office, Xanatos smiled confidently at the screen of his laptop. As Detective Maza enjoyed reminding him, he was a private citizen and thus not privileged to receive classified information from the New York City Police Department. Of course, this had never stopped him before from setting the full force of his surveillance team on them in both the real world and cyberspace. Today was no different and he grinned gleefully over the briefing he had just received in his email. The gargoyles hadn't had such an unproductive night after all. There had been over fifty arrests and thousands of charges filed. All Canmore's major backers had been exposed and were now facing imprisonment and ruination. The individual cells of thugs that had been recruited, hired, and trained were now either sitting in jail, or scattered and cowering in hiding. Though they had not succeeded at unearthing Canmore himself, at least not yet, the Quarrymen, as it existed as an organization, was essentially shattered.
Xanatos glanced from the email to another monitor, which showed the drone-captured image of Goliath and the four others, perched atop the building they had taken shelter on at dawn. Xanatos looked forward immensely to informing him of the good news, but even more so, he hoped Goliath would allow Demona to be told. She would pretend not to care, he predicted. He could already hear her in his mind, arrogantly insisting that the Quarrymen were no different from the rest of mankind. Even so, he wanted to see her face when she learned that the most dangerous organized threat that had ever existed against her kind had effectively been dismantled and would soon be only an unpleasant memory.
As Xanatos sat musing, a sharp tone and a light on his desk phone indicated a call from security. He answered and was surprised to hear from their office in the lobby that a man identifying himself as Jason Canmore was there and adamantly wished to see him. Alarmed, but also intrigued, he pulled up the footage from the security office. The overhead camera revealed a man in a wheelchair, looking greatly pained as he pleaded with the overbearing manager of security.
Xanatos zoomed in and studied the dark-haired man curiously. He had never met Jason Canmore in real life, though he had seen his image in several videos and photographs provided by his surveillance team. Before his injury, Jason Canmore had been a most formidable figure, with a confident gait, broad, muscled shoulders, and piercing blue eyes. Now, he sat, slightly hunched in an electric wheelchair. Much of his former strength seemed to have melted from his form. His eyes, however, maintained the same intensity, even within the anxious frame of his tired-looking face. For a brief moment, when he glanced up toward the security camera, Xanatos got the eerie feeling that his intent stare was deliberately focused straight on him.
"Have security check him, then bring him to my office," Xanatos ordered.
As he waited, he pondered how to proceed. He had to admit that he was caught off guard by Jason Canmore at his front door, and being caught off guard was a condition he didn't tolerate well. Goliath had indicated some support for the idea of letting Demona meet with the former Hunter, but when they last spoke, he'd promised to question Demona about her intentions and hopefully get some information out of her first. Goliath had not yet asked Xanatos to facilitate a meeting, nor had they discussed how and where such a meeting should take place. For the past years, Goliath had always been very conscientious with his communication in regards to their mutual prisoner, so going ahead without discussing it first was not like him. On the other hand, Xanatos couldn't guess how Demona might have gotten any communication out to Jason Canmore herself. She'd been in the rookery for nearly every waking moment since she'd returned home. Still, Xanatos considered the possibility that Jason Canmore was seeking to speak to Xanatos for some other coincidental reason. Perhaps something to do with the raids on the Quarrymen, though Xanatos played no official part in them.
He frowned as he rose from his desk and opened a hidden panel in the wall behind him. From there he retrieved and armed a laser cannon. It was a new prototype his firm had designed. It measured only about a third of the size of their most previous design, while still surpassing it in power, range, and accuracy. He had squashed the project in development, stating the technology was far more lucrative when used in construction and mining machinery than in weaponry. However, the unobtrusive and inconspicuous prototype had become his personal weapon of choice for self defense, though it certainly seemed a bit of overkill for an unarmed man in a wheelchair.
A short time later, security led the man into his office, where Xanatos greeted him cordially and invited him to sit before dismissing the security officer.
"It seems strange that we've never met before," Xanatos commented with a smile. Canmore nodded, as he let his gaze travel around the room, slowly taking in the various displays that adorned the walls.
"You have many things," he commented, his voice lacing the last word with contempt.
"I do, indeed. I am a man of many interests," Xanatos replied.
"Many interests," Canmore repeated, his face betraying frustration and building rage, "Many achievements…many collections…artwork, books, artifacts, machines…and monsters."
Xanatos laughed, "No, no monsters here! Although I'm easily enthralled by stories, legends, and myths about magic, mystical beings and creatures, and-
"Demons?" Canmore interrupted.
Xanatos smiled again, raising his eyebrows, "But I've yet to find a real one."
"It must be wonderful," he continued, his angered, contemptuous tone still bubbling under the surface of civil chitchat, "To have so many interests and all the fortune in the world with which to indulge them. I have only one interest. My whole life, from the time I was a lad, there has only been one interest, one goal, one purpose for me. What would you say to that, Mr. Xanatos?"
"I would say that I hope it's one you've found most rewarding."
For a moment, such an ice cold rage flashed in the man's blue eyes that Xanatos wondered if he wasn't in danger of having a coffee mug launched at his face. Mocked in his pain, Canmore's gaze went again to the shelves that held the unworthy and callous billionaire's collection of trophies and mementos, each representing the joys that Canmore had forfeited in his own life. Xanatos followed his gaze silently, until it fell upon a photo of himself and his wife in their private box at the baseball stadium. The couple smiled euphorically as they watched the game, their cotton candy-stained boy resting contently against his father's shoulder.
"It has not been rewarding," Canmore replied softly, "How I wish to be free of it."
"What can I do to help?" Xanatos asked him matter-of-factly, trying to distract the strange man's eerie gaze from the photo of his family.
Jason Canmore reached into the pocket of his denim jacket and removed a cell phone, which he opened and set on the table before Xanantos. Confused, Xanatos picked it up and scrolled through a series of text messages.
"That's a conversation I had with Detective Elisa Maza," he informed him, "I know she's here."
"Detective Maza?" Xanatos replied in confusion.
"No. The gargoyle, called 'Demona'. I know she isn't dead. I know you have her here."
"Demona is dead. She's been dead for years," Xanatos insisted.
"That's a lie!"
"Call it a difference of opinion," Xanatos replied to the accusation.
"I call it bullshit! You are hiding her here and everyone knows it!"
"She's not the same as she was."
"Do you not remember what she tried to do? And you hide her away from justice? For what reason? Surely you don't still believe that this monster will make you immortal!"
Xanatos' mouth opened in protest but he was cut off.
"Oh yes, we knew about that! Imagine a man willing to sacrifice the lives of an entire city, even an entire world, in order to give himself a chance at immortality! As if a demon would keep her promises!"
"That's not…," Xanatos flustered defensively at the accusation, "This wasn't about that. She wasn't right without her clan, and we found a realistic way of helping her reunite with them. She deserved that chance."
"My father deserved the chance to live."
"You don't understand," Xanatos argued, "She wants to be free of this vendetta as much as you do. It has cost her nearly everything she has ever loved. After all these centuries, she finally has a chance to live in some semblance of peace with her own clan. She doesn't want to lose that too."
Xanatos sighed. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it.
"What is it you want from me?" he demanded.
"I want closure," the man replied bitterly, "I have to face her."
"What do you expect me to do?" he asked incredulously, "Lock you in a cage and let you kill each other?"
"Look at me, man," Canmore demanded, "Do you honestly think I could do your precious pet any harm?"
Xanatos studied the broken man before him, stalling while he thought things through. Finally he replied,
"I can arrange for you to see her. She will be in her human form and I will be there to prevent things from getting out of hand. If it's truly closure you want, you're going to have to find a way to get it using your words."
Canmore nodded his head in agreement and Xanatos rolled his chair to a counter behind him, where a two-way radio sat charging against the wall.
"Owen," he called over the radio, "Adelpha has a guest here to see her. Please see that she is moved to the holding cell and the barriers are all secure."
"Please, Sir, perhaps I misunderstood?" came Owen's voice over the radio, "I was prepared for Adelpha to see her guests in the conservatory this morning. She is waiting there now. Would you like for me to move her to the holding cell?"
"No, Owen," replied the smooth voice of Jon Canmore as he stepped over Xanatos' limp form, "The conservatory will be perfect." He replaced the radio and reached down, removing Xanatos' weapon from his hip.
"Don't mind if I do," he sneered as he disappeared through the door.