.

Souls of the Night

8.

I crawled through the thicket on all fours, really trying to sneak. This gargoyle body did it almost automatically. It must have been here somewhere and I stopped at every larger tree to stick my nose in the air and sniff. But with the mingling smells of earth, bark, rotten leaves from previous years, mold and lichen, which my still inexperienced nose couldn't even separate, I found it difficult to sniff out "kin". Of course, I was most likely to suspect Lexington. Or maybe Brooklyn, who was out with Heather again tonight (he generally seemed to like taking the Hatchling on patrols himself or supervising her "training"). But the shadow I'd seen drop from a tree - though I hadn't been able to tell if it had been a voluntary or involuntary fall - looked rather too compact for my clan leader. Their clan leader. The clan leader - whatever. I couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if my beloved had snuck up on me. I had deceived him - and he was sniffing after me because, as always, he was worried about me and thought I needed help. We would have to address our mutual trust issues with Doctor Davis soon. My fibbing too - although I always found I had very valid reasons to lie. I stopped under a large tree under which a bush was growing with some twigs broken off.

Had that been the spot? I lifted my head and sniffed the bark. It was hard to tell. Oh man, good thing I was about to become a human who didn't feel called upon to play sniffer dog - I wasn't very good at that either. I scrambled up the tree and five yards above the ground the trunk forked. No claw marks on the bark - mhmm. Had I been wrong after all? Had my eyes perhaps just been playing tricks on me after three hours of observation? I hadn't heard any screams from a distance due to the child laughing and squealing by the pool area, but the humans probably hadn't heard anything either. Sonny had turned his head towards the row of trees but seemed to have come to the conclusion that it had probably just been an animal that had cracked a few branches in the undergrowth and had then gone back to playing with Vito (or throwing him throatily roaring and laughing across the surface of the water where the water had swallowed up the child's happy cries). Graziella Dracon had packed away her cell phone while I had climbed down from the roof and had settled down in the whirlpool at the edge of the pool area right next to the normal swimming pool. Apart from a burgundy bikini (not a thong but boyshorts), she wore only a dark neoprene supportive leg bandage which I knew, thanks to Lexington's story, covered old scar tissue and stabilized her weaker leg. I guessed the bandage was supposed to replace some kind of kinesio tape. She was still sitting there as I could see from the tree. The kid was splashing around in the pool dog-paddle style, which was hard for him because of the water wings. And Sonny? I frowned. Where was Sonny? Suddenly, someone kicked the trunk below, which shook the tree and me so much that I fell from it without being able to dig my claws into the bark. I hit the ground face first, cushioned by rotten leaves.

"Ahhhh, damn," I croaked, whimpering. I had really come to appreciate this sturdy gargoyle body in my clumsier moments over the last few weeks. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. I turned around, groaning, the foliage crackling beneath me.

Then I saw a large shadow looming over me, leaning down.

"Ohoh," I managed to say, then I felt the snake bite of a taser on my neck and lost consciousness.

.

I woke up again when I was thrown into boiling water. No, not boiling. Just ... bubbling. I came to the surface gasping and coughing, gripping something soft and silky, and when I opened my eyes I found myself eye to eye with Graziella Dracon, who was looking at me with the inquiring cool gaze of a hungry bird of prey. I yanked my hand from her full breast, tried to jump out of her whirlpool but was pushed back by Sonny. After I came dripping wet back to the surface - no feat because at its deepest point the water only went up to a standing adult's waist - I crouched down at the other end of the round pool with the circular seating area and stared at Dracon, who was adjusting her bikini top over her large breasts. I had almost ripped the fabric off her.

"Sorry," I mewled, and her hawkish, hard-mouthed stare turned into a sly smirking sneer.

"You wouldn't believe how many times I've had the claws of various gargoyles on my tits. Sometimes I think it's magnetic attraction."

"Wh-why did you throw me in here? And why -" It was only when I actually started to say it that I felt really embarrassed and wrapped my arms around my own torso as if there was ANYTHING to see. "Why am I not wearing any clothes!" I wanted to know and pulled my legs towards me. I was still wearing my underpants but nothing else! Sonny must have taken off my Kevlar vest and the rest to make sure I didn't have any weapons, listening devices or anything else. And now he was standing behind his Mistress like a bodyguard (and I guess he was), staring coldly at me the whole time. I couldn't help but notice the gun sticking out from under his folded arms. He was standing there with a torso that came close to Goliath's in broadness and blue low waist swim shorts that were so tight that his menacingly massive privates became apparent and made me instantly turn my gaze back to Graziella.

The look on his mistress's face, on the other hand, had already become amused but equally unsettling.

"Why did you take my clothes?" I wailed, feeling so vulnerable without my Kevlar vest.

"You don't go in the pool with your clothes on," said a bright voice behind me and now I recoiled from this one. The little boy, Graziella Dracon's son, had his arms, both wrapped in purple water wings with the gargoyle logo, resting on the edge of the hot tub, which was only twenty centimeters above the adjacent swimming pool. His deep, dark almond eyes scrutinized me with interest and he smiled with delight.

"Hi. I'm Vito Dracon. I don't have you in my scrapbook. Can I touch your horns?" he asked, stretching his slender arm in my direction and making cute grabbing motions.

"I um-" I looked uncertainly at Graziella Dracon, then at Sonny. They were both watching me.

"Scrapbook?" I asked, confused, trying to distract the child from the touching issue.

"You're not in the 1998 version where Nashville was close to my age. The 2004 scrapbook with the Manhattan Clan - you're not in that either. There was also one in 2011 and 2018. There was even Tachi in the last one. She's cool, she has a beak. But I like them all. You weren't in any of them. You're not in the London Clan scrapbook either. Not in the South African one either. But you talk like you're from here. Are you from here? But I know all the gargoyles. Nobody knows gargoyles as well as I do," the child babbled excitedly.

"Vito," said his mother. Not harshly. But when the child looked at her, I could almost see his ears drooping like a little hatchling's (even though Heather was the only gargoyle child I knew).

"Excuse me," he said, suddenly very timidly, and then looked at me again. "May ... I touch your horns? Please. I ... I like horns."

Bewildered, I looked again at the two adults with my mouth open. They made no effort to stop me from interacting with the child. And they certainly wouldn't hurt or blow me away if I moved closer to Vito. So I did just that - very slowly and then lowered my head. I got goose bumps when his little hands stroked my slightly ridged horns with ahhhs and ohhhs and I blushed and squeezed my legs together when he touched the transition from my forehead to my horns. This was one of my (many) erogenous zones that Lexington often fondled and I had to frantically think of non-arousing things (like clubbing seals to death and very old, naked human women) to avoid getting a semi-erection. Because I was VERY sure that not only gangsters but all parents would have shot me if I showed arousal at the touch of a child. My nose was running because my sinuses were stung not by the smell of chlorine I was used to as a human, but by something sweet, as if the water itself was scented with something. Even the child was coated with this smell. Something like that massively disturbed the gargoyle in me. Then - after twenty interminable seconds - I lifted my head again and pulled a joyfully squealing Vito from the swimming pool into the hot tub because he hadn't let go of my horns. He plopped into my lap (without an erection, thank God) and as if by instinct, my hands found his narrow back to stabilize him. He fell into my arms and hugged me.

"You're nice," he said, rubbing his face against my chicken breast like Heather might have done in her cuddlier moments.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably and looked at Graziella, who was watching her child's displays of affection for the natural nemesis of all criminals with an expression reminiscent of pain and sorrow.

"He-," I began, not knowing what to say or what I wanted to say.

"He loves Gargoyles," she said coldly. "And he likes to cuddle. "

Vito played with my dripping dreadlocks. "The speaking-only doctor says it's normal because I didn't know my daddy well and have fear of aba- abdamam- abandonment! My daddy doesn't live with us. But one day he'll come and then we'll all be happy." The child straightened up, his bony knees pressed into my not really well-padded thighs and looked at his mother. "He's coming back to us soon, yes mamma? Uncle Sonny?"

"Sure he's coming," Graziella said with a gentle smile while Sonny took a deep breath and stroked the shiny surface of his gun with his finger. Uncertainly, my hands found my tail, which I began to knead anxiously. Oh God, what had these mobsters done to the child's father? Was he pushing up the daisys from below? I swallowed but my throat was dry as a bone even though I was sitting in the warm, steaming water. Vito had detached himself from me and waded across the tiled seat to his mother on the other side of the pool - I only now saw that he was wearing loose swimming trunks with gargoyles on them and it was surreal and unsettling to see the creatures I considered family on merchandise of any kind. I knew myself that between 2001 and 2010 in particular, the market had been full of such products and still very occasionally things with them or about them came onto the market. But Lex had explained to me that every clan member always had to agree to everything, so it was really limited and usually only for good causes. Vito now cuddled up to Graziella and she lovingly but possessively put an arm around him. Slightly more worried because I no longer had a protective Vito-shield but slightly more confident that I might escape with my life because Vito thought I was "nice", I asked again.

"Wh-why am I here?"

Both mobsters grunted with laughter.

"Why are you here? YOU were snooping on us," Sonny said.

"I- I meant in the hot tub," I said.

"You looked like you needed to relax," Graziella said with a kind of smarmy smile. "Besides, you were smoking after Sonny grilled you and we thought water would be good there."

I nodded, although I wasn't sure if she was just messing with me. And I was pretty sure my smoking body had nothing to do with the taser.

"What- what are you going to do to me now?" I asked, full of fear but also unable to bear the uncertainty.

"We're asking the questions here," she said, studying me in an uncomfortable way, her long damp hair (no longer straight but wavy) falling over her shoulder.

"Name," Sonny rumbled behind her.

"-and clan," added his boss.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't have a clan of origin because I wasn't originally a gargoyle. My frightened silence made Sonny take a step towards me, and I flinched in the water - less from fear of being shot or beaten by his massive hands than from his dick, which I didn't want one yard closer to me. It was ridiculous and irrational, but maybe that's how all rape victims felt in the face of a club hanging from a person who wouldn't have a problem hurting his victim (although, had my head been working at that second, I could have guessed that Sonny probably wouldn't rape a man, let alone a gargoyle).

"Name and Clan!" he yelled and hadn't even pointed his gun at me when I threw my arms up, wrapped them around my head and screamed "NATHANIEL SHARIF!"

I couldn't appreciate the silence of the people because I instantly babbled on in blind panic.

"M-m-my-my name is Na-na-nathaniel Sharif. I ha-ha-have no clan. I'm from Brooklyn! I'm not in any scrapbook! Don't hurt me!" I wailed, knowing it was only the old, weak, pathetically human Nathaniel Sharif speaking, who would do anything to get whatever was coming at him over with quickly. But nothing happened. With painfully cramped muscles, I dared to squint through my arms. And all three people started at me - the adults not even threatening. Just stunned. Sonny wandered back to his mistress and bent down, not being quiet.

"That's not a Gargoyle," he said next to her and Vito's head and she didn't take her eyes off me as she sat Vito down beside her (with the water now going to his neck) and agreeing with Sonny.

"Definitely not."

"I-I'm a Gargoyle," I pressed out and my wings - though cramped and trembling - decided to open at that moment, which should be proof enough. I didn't want these criminals to know anything about me (of my human life, which I intended to lead again soon), I couldn't imagine who I was putting in danger apart from myself, and maybe I could convince them despite my verbal bloopers. After all, there were three dozen Sharif families in Brooklyn and I wasn't even remotely related or related by marriage to a quarter of them. But of course I didn't convince them. Graziella Dracon jerked forward in my direction with her hands cupped in claws and at the same time as her "BUHHH!" I shrieked and wrapped my wings around my head.

The laughter of both mobsters, including the child's bright giggles, made me lift my head again.

Graziella Dracon really seemed to enjoy psychologically torturing her victims. And she really didn't seem traumatized. That's how I imagined sadistic mobsters of the finest quality - and the woman and her right-hand man didn't disappoint me. Even her child didn't seem to perceive the obvious danger I was in as such. This was exciting for him. Or he thought his mother and his "uncle" were playing a strange game with the "nice" Gargoyle. This innocence (or serene unaffectedness) where Sonny stood behind them with a gun and his mother only had to give the order to make my brain matter splatter was disturbing. But I didn't even get to ponder whether Lexington's story in the parts that described Graziella Dracon as similarly suffering and torn as Nashville were perhaps misjudgments or completely exaggerated. Graziella Dracon pointed a burgundy manicured but not overly long, rather purposeful finger at me.

"You're no gargoyle, Buttercup. Not even the most remote, domesticated, peaceful clan in the world can spit out such a pussy. You probably just peed in the pool in fear of Sonny."

"I did not! I really didn't," I said contritely. Maybe ... two or three drops had escaped me.

The Gangster Queen of New York twirled one of her curls around on her finger, seemingly disinterested. "No gargoyle in this world is as much of a wimp as you. Not even the little Gremlin - what was his name?"

"Lexington is not a gremlin! And he's the bravest, most wonderful man there is!" I hissed, feeling an angry, magical flash of heat rush through me that was immediately smothered by water and an armed Sonny.

"Ahhhh," Graziella Dracon hummed with a wolfish smirk and made a shooting motion in my direction with her index finger.

"Gotcha! There we are getting closer. So here we have a Nathaniel Sharif from Brooklyn - and don't lie to me again, Missy, your Brooklyn boy accent gives you away. And judging by your reaction, Lex is your stud because sorry- with your demeanor, there's no question you're the girl. So how did a little gay Brooklyn weenie become a gargoyle? Magic or science?"

"Science?" I asked, horrified and flummoxed at how this woman could put one and one together (I hated it when bad people were clever, too).

Vito's eyes sparkled at me in a whole new way that had nothing to do with gargoyle fanboy. He tugged excitedly at his mother's arm.

"Mom, is he maybe-"

"Vito!" Sonny hissed venomously and once again the mirth faded within a second, leaving only uncertainty as the little one sank so far under the water that he could barely breathe through his nose and look at me shyly.

"Science or magic?" Graziella asked seriously and stroked her son's head comfortingly as he cuddled up to her warily. All three of them didn't take their eyes off me again. Since I was obviously neither physically nor cognitively capable of hiding anything from the criminals in this situation, I saw no other option than to tell the truth. I didn't know what science Graziella was talking about. Was she referring to Goliath's book? Did she think I was a mutant? Or a clone of whoever?

"It was magic," I said, praying they wouldn't ask me who had trapped me in this body.

"Freak card for life?" Dracon asked and I almost laughed. My freak card was prepaid with or without a gargoyle body.

I shook my head. If Graziella really had had intensive and more than friendly contact with Nashville years ago, then she probably knew about magic anyway. Still, I had no intention of betraying Alexander Xanatos.

"The spell will only last until the week after next - probably. It was... to save my life. Lexington saved me. I'd been badly injured as a human and as a gargoyle I could petrify and heal."

Dracon looked at me in a strange way. Thoughtful and introspective at the same time.

Instead of asking me who had cast the spell, which I feared, she took a deep breath and looked at a clock hanging on the outside wall of the building.

"Well, it's getting late and the final program for our wellness evening has to go on here," Dracon said indifferently again, now with both arms over the edge of the pool.

"Why are you snooping on me?"

"It`s not voyeurism if you`re solving mysteries!" I replied, trying desperately to be charming and less kill-worthy.

Graziella Dracon's glare with her lifted upper lip and a lot of fang without being a gargoyle made me sink almost below water level, just like Vito before.

"No gargoyle motto now, Buttercup. I want to know why Nathaniel Sharif, currently nesting with his lover among the Manhattan gargoyles and soon-to-be human, thinks he has to sniff after me and my child," Dracon said with frost in her voice.

"I wasn't interested in Vito. I - actually, I was just worried and wanted to see if YOU were okay," I admitted uncertainly, my eyes widening as both mobsters and even the child lost their expressions and all looked at me, petrified. For a few seconds all you could hear was the bubbling of the Jacuzzi and if my body had been human at that moment, I was very sure that my sphincter would have let me down. What? What had I said? Was- had I just signed my death warrant? And I idiot hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Lexington and the clan. They wouldn't even know that my remains would be scattered in Graziella Dracon's driveway! I started to shiver and despite the warm water and the warmth inside me, I could feel little ice demons creeping into my muscles.

"I didn't mean... that you couldn't take care of yourself. I meant... I didn't mean any harm."

"Sonny," Graziella said without taking her eyes off the pathetically cramped pile of gargoyles, and at a beckoning motion with her index finger, her big goon bent down to her, gun pointed at me.

"I think our guest needs more relaxation. He is completely tense," she said.

A startling tiny smile crept onto the corners of Sonny's usually hard mouth and my heart raced as he agreed with her, lifting Vito out of the pool and then assisting Graziella to climb out. For the first time, I saw the waterproof skin-colored bandages on her hips and thighs and the jet-black bruise peeking out of her bandage just above the knee, which had to hurt massively if Dracon wasn't on painkillers anyway. Then, once she was standing safely, the woman strolled towards the house with the child by the hand and disappeared through a sliding glass door.

"Thank you, Miss Dracon. Have a ni-nice evening," I said hurriedly, hoping that the mobsters had in their own strange way cleared me to leave so I could relax far far far away. I crawled out of the pool, looking for my clothes, but suddenly a rough hand grabbed me by the wing roots, lifted me off the ground and before I could claw at Sonny, he had my wrists pinned behind my back so that my wings couldn't revolt. At the same time he had let go of my wing roots to grab my tail. And so - and to my utter horror - he had rendered even my seven-limbed gargoyle form defenceless and was now manhandling me across the length of the pool area and through the same door through which Graziella and Vito had disappeared. Panicked, I tried to escape the grasp of his large hands, trying to let the fire in my core seep outwards to burn him but out of sheer fear nothing happened in that regard (or as if the fire demon in me was so eager to see what would happen that he refused to let me use his/my ability). I tried to call the wind but apart from one or two curtains billowing a little, nothing happened on that front either.

By now I was almost blubbering and a begging, almost panic stricken heap of misery.

"Please! Please, I'm sorry. I don't need relaxation! I am relaxed! Everything is fine - everything is peachyyyyy! I will go. I can just- please! Mr. Sonny! I- I'll never do it again. I didn't mean to snoop. I, I didn't mean any harm. Please... Maybe the syndicate needs an accountant - because I could -" My eyes widened when, after an area where there were massage tables and mats, I was driven through a chic Italian-style shower area and pushed against a shelf with numerous light gray towels in front of an entirely wood-paneled wall. I was horrified to see Graziella Dracon's bikini (top and bottoms and Vito's Gargoyle swim shorts lying on a clothes rack. Frantic, I shook my head.

"I-I-I don't need to relax, please. I can just IHHK!" I screamed shrilly as someone pulled down my wet underpants, shoved one of the towels into my claws and pushed me into a hot and steamy room. I fell to the floor and stared at the drain in the middle of the chamber. A drain through which blood and brain matter could flow when I was about to-. Bright children's laughter made me look up. Vito was crouched on the higher of two benches covered with softly polished wooden slats, his head in his hands, grinning at me. No more water wings but nude. Like his mother, who was sitting opposite me on the lower bench without a thread on her body, completely relaxed and damp with sweat. Between us was a square sauna heater with dark stones that radiated warmth. A gush of cold air blew on my bare ass, wings and back as Sonny entered. I turned around and immediately jumped away to avoid his now freely swinging pecker in my face as he walked past me, scooped a ladle of water from a wooden tub and poured it on the stones, instantly raising a cloud of hot steam.

Graziella Dracon sank lower on the bench like the melting witch from the Wizard of Oz. "Oh, that's good," she murmured, massaging her leg cuff with her fingers, which was the only thing she was still wearing. Her tanned skin with perhaps naturally fleshy, shapely breasts and slim waist would have been the dream of most other men. Others would have had their mouths watering at the sight of the dark brown V of curled pubic hair between her legs. Even the bulging, white caesarean scar that I hadn't noticed before because of her swimming shorts and which went down to her belly button didn't disfigure her - it only emphasized the rest of her perfection - as did the mole on her cheekbone. But I was simply horrified at the absurdity of it all here and Sonny's limp but still massively intimidating dong made me run for the door. Which of course did NOT open no matter how hard I pulled on it. I was then content to cower as far away from the adults as possible on the bench next to Vito very close to the door.

"By the way, Buttercup. The towel was purely a gesture of goodwill for you," Dracon mumbled as she rolled first her left arm, then her right in an attempt to loosen muscles that were probably still sore from yesterday. I saw that I still had the little gray towel in my clutches and placed it over my crotch.

"Thank you," I uttered quietly - really grateful for the little bit of cloth the mobsters had allowed me. I tried to calm down and not get too heated. Probably not all the steam in here was coming from the sauna stones, but I really didn't want the mobsters to know that I was a firebug in this form. I managed to normalize my pulse and heartbeat to some extent, took a deep breath and ... yes, maybe if the company had been more pleasant I would have enjoyed a sauna session. It was hazy and warm, and the indirect lighting made me sleepy. Somehow ... a little bit like in the rookery. And really, for a few short minutes I could almost forget that two felons were sitting with me. Sonny hadn't brought his gun into the sauna. Graziella hadn't brought her beloved splints with the knives. And somehow ... I could pretend that I was the most dangerous person in the room with my fangs, claws and fire powers. I wasn't, of course, because Sonny could still crush me into a mud lump of bones and innards if he wanted to and I couldn't really rely on my fire in this humid environment. Even Vito managed not to fidget for a few minutes and lay stretched out on the top bench behind me - obviously used to regular sauna sessions or already tired from the late night hour behind me. I was nearly relaxed when Sonny stood up and poured another ladle of water over the stones, which sputtered and hissed and sent white steam rising to the ceiling. But as soon as I closed my eyes - about to pull my stick out of my ass because no one would probably kill me - I flinched and opened them again because someone clapped loudly right in front of my face. Sonny was staring at me.

"Don't fall asleep. We're not done with you yet."

He now sat down next to me instead of Graziella. Not so close that his expansive shoulder touched me, but it still drove me further against the wall and I would have loved to claw my way out through the wood paneling and the stone behind it. When Sonny opened his legs - obviously offensively and on purpose - I let out a desperate, shrill whimper. God, his cock and balls were like a car crash - you didn't want to look but could hardly look away.

Graziella Dracon - quite amused by the sadistic behavior of her Minion who managed to sit there with a poker face despite everything - chortled a soft laugh while Sonny turned his head towards me.

"Don't worry, Missy. I'm as gay as a maypole. A girl like you has nothing to fear from me."

"That means Uncle Sonny likes big boys to kiss," Vito explained behind me, stroking his uncle through his damp frizzy hair. He grinned over his shoulder and nudged the kid.

"Only big boys. No half portions like you or Buttercup," Sonny scoffed. But as familiar and yes- super cute as this Mobster-private live spotlight was. I was pretty disturbed by everything here and knew the gangsters wanted me just like that.

"Good to know," I croaked, me as a mere phrase and for some reason- probably subconsciously my ring muscle clenched in anguish at Sonny's own sexual orientation and the purely hypothetical danger it could pose.

"So - where were we. So you wanted to check if I was okay," Dracon- after she and Sonny had reduced me to a squirming puddle of fear, discomfort and embarrassment without even laying a finger on me- got back to the point.

"I really didn't mean any harm," I said again, lowering my gaze so I wouldn't have to endure Dracon's stare.

"Since you obviously - all heroic gargoyle spirit - cared about this little gangster chick here, I have to assume you know what happened last night. I can't imagine Nashville bragging to anyone about what he did so ... you probably followed him and saw the whole thing."

I looked sideways at Vito, who was now sitting at Sonnys side, looking at me with his mouth tightened into a thin line. No more smiles. Not from Sonny anyway.

"I ... can't talk about it in front of the kid. Can he- maybe..." I mumbled.

Graziella Dracon folded her arms, rested her breasts on them and leaned back.

"I once swore to myself that I would never lie to my children. I won't send him away if he wants to listen. Adults always think they're doing children a favor when they lie to them - but all they're doing is abusing the infinite trust that children have in their parents and most adults. They trick and deceive them and call it love."

Even though I didn't have children and it was ALWAYS inappropriate to lecture parents as a childless person, I saw it very differently and couldn't even keep my mouth shut, I was so put off by her attitude. "By keeping children away from harmful things up to a certain age, you protect them. Children are not yet mentally equipped to deal with some of the issues that stress and upset adults. And not saying things in detail is NOT lying."

The corner of Graziella Dracon's mouth twitched up into a pitying smile.

"Oh, if you weren't gay, Buttercup, someday you'd be a terrific, sophisticated mom. Do you know about me and Nashville? About the bond?"

"I know ... a lot. Lexington's story took more than an hour."

"Then he left out quite a bit." She exhaled and said without taking her eyes off me.

"Vito, my bambino."

"Mhm?"

"If you want, you can go. Hop in the shower, dry off and put on your pyjamas. Don't forget your slippers. And then you can get your favorite ice cream from the freezer and watch another episode of Turtles on your tablet. Or ... you can stay here and listen while the adults talk about things that you are definitely too young for and that this weenie doesn't want you to hear. The choice is yours. A perfect world with ice cream, lies and deceit? Or brutal reality."

"What are you doing?" I whispered. And then added louder, almost outraged; "You can't burden a six-year-old with a choice like that? He CAN'T decide that. You're damaging him for life."

"HIS life, how much joy and suffering he allows. How wide he opens his eyes is up to him. He is a child but I treat him as I would have wished to be treated. I am not a perfect mother. I probably even suck at being a mother - but I don't presume to think he's just a shit-stupid kid. Vito. Ice cream or staying here? Blue pill or red pill?"

"Red," the child said without a second's hesitation, suddenly sounding very grown up and very defiant at the same time with just that one word - and not just because he knew the Matrix reference with the pills. Then the little one turned his head to me, his mouth a Dracon-like snarl, his eyes staring like his mother's for the first time (God, in that second his eyes even reminded me of Nashville's - that's how often I've gotten that look lately).

"And I'm seven years old. Not six," he said with the outstanding bravado of a little king.

I licked my lips, tasting the salt of my own sweat on them, and nodded, dismayed. How could I argue here? I still had a lot to say - but I would only fall on deaf ears here.

"If you haven't noticed by now, congratulations," Dracon said matter of factly. "The whole world has a problem with the truth. Long before there was the word fake news and stupid assholes in fine suits were throwing around words like witch hunt and muckraking, the world was held together with lies. The human world anyway and even the Manhattan clan. That broke Nashville before I was his problem. Before I was his redemption. Before we even knew each other. I can't and won't change the whole world but I can make the relationship that I have with my child as trusting as I can and as much as he is able to bear. That is love AND respect... I used to think I could at least change New York. Just Nashville's and my little piece of the world. But we ruined that too by lying to each other. And today? Today we lie to each other every time we meet. And every lie tears our bodies and souls apart a little further. It doesn't even need my knives or bullets that I force into his body or his claws and his cock that he forces into me."

I gasped for air and looked from Graziella to Vito with eyes the size of hubcaps. But the child was no longer looking at me. He was kneading his little fingers while his mother talked about murder and rape. Even her right hand wasn't looking at me, but at his boss, while perhaps only I noticed that one of his massive hands was stroking Vito's back soothingly. This woman was depraved. She was insane. As I looked at her too, I lost the string of descriptions my mind was about to rattle off. It could have been sweat but I maybe it was a tear running down Graziella's cheek. Her eyes, sad, almost desperate on her child as she continued to speak.

"He is my dearest. He holds me together, every day. I have no secrets from Vito. Apart from the fact that he's too sharp and street-smart for me to hide what's going on, he doesn't deserve to be lied to. Because his life is involved too. He knows everything about me, about my work, about my current and past relationship with Nashville."

"He knows about your work?" I asked incredulously.

"My mom is the most powerful crime syndicate boss in North America," Vito said, making a point of holding my gaze.

"But... I thought you liked gargoyles," I mumbled. "Don't you know that-?"

"I DO know! I know that Mamma and Uncle Sonny and everyone who works for Mamma fights Gargoyles and the Gargoyles fight them because they think they're bad guys." Now the child looked away. "But I still like gargoyles even if they don't understand why Mamma does what she does. But the Nashville and Mamma thing has nothing to do with business. I know deep down they don't want to hurt each other."

"You see, Buttercup? He doesn't judge me even if I mess up again and again. He knows his mommy is trying. He knows Nash is hurting his mommy and he knows I'm hurting Nashville and we can't stop. We love each other and yet we are mortal enemies. Now tell me, Nathaniel Sharif from Brooklyn. WHAT can YOU pathetic sucker do to help me or him?"

I stared at her, closing my mouth, which had been open the whole time. But I couldn't find the words. The sadness turned - again as if a switch had been flipped - into a mischievous, tactical grin. She leaned forward, all mafia boss again.

"Or ... I'm lying. If I'm lying, then I don't love him and I'm screaming for help in that very moment without articulating it. I hate what he does to me and I'm really just a victim. What is the truth? You must have been told that I pretty much always lie, so maybe I'm lying now to protect my self-worth, my empire, my standing in this town. As much as I value the truth in my dealings with my child - my business and my life are also built on lies. Maybe I am what you thought when you fluttered here so tired of life. A rape-victim, weak, broken, at his mercy. I'll tell you what you might have thought you wanted to hear. Something that the protector in you - however small and fleeting that part of you may be - wants to hear. Nashville is a gargoyle and I am human. Nashville's roar frightens me, his glowing eyes, his hot breath on my skin paralyzes me and robs me of words. Nashville has claws that rake across my thin skin. A beak full of fangs, which he sinks into my soft flesh. A body that is so much stronger than mine and seven limbs he uses to push me to the ground and-"

"ENOUGH!" I screamed and jumped up, fists clenched, eyes blazing. Sonny had jumped up at the same time as me - even without the weapon his mistress's guardian - and I sat back down, panting with anger.

"Sonny," his boss said, clearly tired of me, and he turned around.

"Go get Buttercup his clothes. He's leaving. Walk him to the nearest tree." Sonny looked from her to me. His expression a threat not to do anything stupid. Then he walked out, leaving a gargoyle alone with his boss and her child. Vito had crawled to his mother and she picked him up and placed him on her healthy leg, giving me a tired glance over the mop of light brown hair.

"It's not my seven-year-old who can't handle the truth. It's you! What lies have you built your life on? Who are you lying to right now because you are too cowardly to simply say what you think and want? I feel sorry for you, Sharif. You're too soft for the life that comes with living near them. Be happy that you can become human again. I wish you luck with your beau and would regret having to kill you as much as I would regret having to kill any of them. But I have sacrificed too much and suffered too much to let these Samaritans stop me. That's the business. My nature and Nashville's are antithetical and yet we are chained together. You don't get that. So stop fucking interfering. Otherwise you'll regret it bitterly."

"It was a mistake to come here. I thought that I ..."

Graziella Dracon laughed bitterly. "-that you could help? You didn't understand what's between Nashville and me from the beginning. You don't understand what the bond does to us, what it used to make us do, how it makes us feel and leaves us behind if we don't give in to those urges. We are both starving. We've been starving for years and the crumbs we allow each other to toss at us taste so bitter but we have nothing else. Take your blue pill, Buttercup. You'll live happier and longer. Being able and allowed to be weak is a grace. I've learned that over the years."

I stood up as, with a rush of cool air, Sonny poked his head into the room, looking at his boss because it was her decision whether or not I could go.

Finally she grinned at me again, her gaze exhausted by a burden that had weighed on her for decades but with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "If you STILL want a clearer picture of what's going on, talk to Nashville. He'll be happy to enlighten you if you nudge him in the right direction a little."

I stood up, clutching the still-too-small towel together at my waist, and looked at her, puzzled. "Do- do you really think he'd talk to me?"

She smiled. "You look like a masochist and I think you're too stupid to let things rest even after tonight. Yes, I think he would tell you his point of view. I think he'd even like it and be grateful to have someone to talk to. You can try to save HIM - superhero. Like I said. Just broach the subject openly and poke him a little. He appreciates the direct approach- trust me on that."

She snapped her fingers and before I could ask if I was off the hook, Sonny dragged me out of the room. Luckily he was wearing his swim shorts again (better - MUCH better than nothing) and I hurried to get back into my clothes, which were lying there so that he or his boss wouldn't get the idea that they might like me better dead than alive.

I looked around, my shirt and Kevlar vest already on and the hem of my shirt pulled down over my private parts,

"Where are my underpants?" I asked uncertainly.

"These will do," said Sonny, pushing my pants towards me and pushing me back through the wellness area, compelling me to put on my Jeans as I walked very ungracefully, stumbling and bouncing. I didn't care about my undignified appearance - I hadn't covered myself in glory here anyway. The main thing was to get out of here. I just wanted to cover my bareness and get out. But ... covering my nakedness didn't work out so well. When I stepped outside, I felt the fresh air on my skin ... even though I was already wearing my pants. Horrified, I turned around and looked down my backside, bending my tail to the side.

"You're kidding-!" I began and cupped my hands over my buttocks in horror. Someone (probably Sonny) had cut the seat out of the denim!

"Kind greetings from Graziella Dracon," Sonny rumbled, and behind me I heard something metallic click. I raised my eyes and saw him pointing his gun at me and aiming. "You have five seconds to get your naked ass off our property. And if we catch you here again, the boss will cut your balls off and send them to your boyfriend to suckle on. Be glad you're too puny to deal with, whether you're a human or a gargoyle. Five ... Four -"

I started to run, feeling my private parts rub against the coarse denim without getting the slightest bit aroused.

By the time I slammed my claws into the nearest tree, Sonny was at two. When I jumped off and caught an updraft, he generously added a zero after the one. I was glad to have survived.

I sat on the chapter for so long and wanted to make it really funny. But ... it turned out really cringeworthy and disturbing. However - the Nashville-Graziella theme is just not predestined for gaiety. At least I put my baby deer Nathaniel through the meat grinder a bit - I'm a wee sadist but his reactions make you want to take the piss out of him too.

And I agree with Nate about openness around children. Graziella's merciless, boundless honesty forces Vito to grow up very quickly, unsettles him and separates him from more carefree children. And of course he chooses the red pill because he loves his mother and doesn't want her to be alone with her suffering. He wants to be part of everything that concerns her. He is Graziella's psychological resource, a caregiver, although no one says that in this context.

But honestly- HOW do you hide "Mommy's special friend" and her work from him? Graziella didn't grow up with Anthony Dracon - she didn't see what he was because what kid figures out within four weeks that daddy is a mob boss? But Vito lives with Graziella all his life. It is illusory that Graziella can hide her work, her emotional torment and her relationship with Gargoyles from him.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.