Demon Evolution (15 page)

Taylor turned, and seeing Chris, said, “What
do they eat, do you think he’ll eat out of my hand?”

Bewildered, Chris replied, “I’m not sure
that’s a good idea.”

“It will be fine, trust me,” Taylor said.

Sure, trust the human girl who had only
had two previous experiences with gargoyles, both of which resulted
in the gargoyles trying to assault her and having to have their
wings forcibly removed
, Chris thought. But then again, these
ones did seem to like her. Chris tiptoed over to an arched opening
that was hewn into the rock wall. He tried to be as quiet as
possible because, while he was feeling more and more comfortable
that Taylor was not in any danger, he was still worried that his
presence might anger Prince or Belinda or both.

From a small storage room he retrieved a few
strips of cured, preserved meat. As he handed the meat to Taylor,
his eyes vigilantly jumped between Momma Gargoyle and Papa
Gargoyle, watching for any signs of a change in their moods.
“They’re carnivorous,” he said. “They go through a lot of meat and
typically we only feed them at regular meal times, but I guess we
can make this one exception.”

“Cool, it’s like beef jerky,” Taylor
commented, accepting the strips of meat.

“It’s actually very similar,” Chris agreed.
“We give them large steaks for dinner, but these are more of a
treat for good behavior.”

Taylor held out a ribbon of meat and Rocky
eagerly snapped it up. His pointy fangs made short work of the beef
and he swallowed with a gulp, seeming almost human in the process.
He enthusiastically pushed his chin further through the bars.
Taylor did not disappoint, flipping shreds of meat into Rocky’s
open mouth. Even if her aim was a bit off the mark, Rocky would,
with lightning quickness, adjust his head to the side or downwards
to catch every single one. The game continued until all of the meat
had been devoured by the scaly eating machine.

“You are such a good little eater,” Taylor
clucked. She rubbed him behind his very human-looking ears. “Can I
keep him?” she joked.

Chris laughed. “No, but he does seem to like
you. I would be happy to bring you down here to see him from time
to time, although I must warn you, he will grow up fast and he may
lose interest in you soon.”

“Sounds great, thanks, Chris,” Taylor said,
standing up and following him back to the others. Rocky’s parents
had barely moved during the entire exchange.

When they approached their friends, Gabriel
strode forward and hugged her tightly, “You had me scared there for
a minute, Tay.”

Pushing him away, she looked up at him with
amusement. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, it was fine.”

“You didn’t realize you were dating the
gargoyle-whisperer, did you, Gabriel?” Chris joked.

Gabriel chuckled, but still looked weary,
stressed, like the whole incident had aged him. Wrinkles formed on
his brow and at the corners of his eyes. “Once again, I am duly
impressed,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Taylor said, “I just felt a
connection with the little guy and acted on it. No big deal.”

Gabriel said, “Let’s get outta here. The
celebrations upstairs will be starting soon and I would really like
to see a few of my old friends now that they’ve recovered.”

They all agreed that they had had enough of
gargoyles for the day. Taylor winked at Rocky as they passed by his
family’s cage on the way out and she swore he winked back at her.
“Did you see—?” she started to ask Sam.

“See what?” Sam asked.

Not wanting to sound crazy-obsessed with the
baby gargoyle, Taylor thought better of her question. “Never mind,
it was nothing.”

Sam looked at her like she was crazy anyway,
and then put an arm around her, walking several strides while
hugging her. “You’re a funny one, Taylor Kingston, but I’m glad
we’re here together.”

“Whatever,” Taylor said, trying to maintain
her unemotional facade. Sam rolled her eyes.

Gabriel reclaimed his walking partner from
Sam and she went back to Chris’s expectant hand. Taylor watched as
a truly happy expression formed on Sam’s face when her fingers
intertwined with her boyfriend’s. Under the firelight, Taylor’s
hand found Gabriel’s too, on her terms this time, and she looked
into his deep, black eyes, which were rimmed by a mere sliver of
blue. She marveled that she and her best friend had found such true
and unconditional love at nearly the exact same time in their
lives.

What would the future bring? She dreamed of a
normal, happy life. Well, almost normal. A few midnight flights on
Gabriel’s back, using Chris’s ability to teleport to tropical dream
vacations—they would have the best of all worlds: human, angel, and
demon, in perfect harmony. And that future could be theirs! It
could be theirs if they could just survive the present.

A
ndrew paced across
his brightly-lit room. Ever since he and the other Archangels had
left Mount Olympus, a sense of foreboding had filled his every
waking moment. Mount Olympus was the name given to the compound
that Dionysus had constructed to protect the Archangel Council from
the demons. As long as the Council and Dionysus as its Head were
there, sufficiently removed from the front lines, Andrew had felt
he was able to control the situation. Since they had moved to the
mountain, just a stone’s throw from the battlefield, Dionysus had
acted with reckless abandon—attacking in broad daylight within
sight of humans, conducting a spy witch hunt, and executing
prisoners. After the latest Council meeting, Andrew was convinced
he had completely lost his mind.

It probably all started when Gabriel
Knight—the golden son, he who delivered
the one
, the future
of the angel cause—had betrayed Dionysus and helped the girl to
escape. On that day Dionysus’s eyes were wild with anger, like
Andrew had never seen before. The evil lurking behind those eyes
must surely have been born from the Devil himself. That’s when
Andrew’s fear began to rise.

For years he had known that the Head of the
Archangel Council was evil, and thus, Andrew’s conscience led him
to a secret meeting with Clifford Dempsey, the head of the demon
Elders, where he pledged himself to the demon cause—the protection
of humans. Over the last decade, Andrew had passed on information
to the demons that was so valuable that he may have singlehandedly
prevented Dionysus from taking control of the world on numerous
occasions.

The most important piece of intel was The
Plan, Dionysus’s ultimate goal, which was known only to the Council
and to a handful of other key angels, and thanks to Andrew, of
course, known to the demon Elders. Knowing that with the demons out
of the way, Dionysus would kill off most of the human race and
enslave the rest to use as a source of eternal life for the angels,
had helped provide the demons with a significant amount of
motivation to win the Great War.

When Dionysus began the angel spy witch hunt,
Andrew became fearful that he, too, would be discovered. He was not
fearful for his own life, for he would gladly give it for such a
noble cause, rather, he was fearful for the lives of his family:
his wife, Sera, a human, and their three angel children, aged
seven, four, and two. Dionysus had surprisingly shown mercy, if you
could call it that, to the families of the angel spies who were
discovered, by not convicting them to the same fate as their loved
ones. However, Andrew knew that Dionysus would not be so merciful
if he discovered the level of his treachery. His life, and the
lives of his family, would be forfeit. An example would surely be
made of him: Traitors Will Be Punished!

Andrew had been too scared to try to pass a
message on to the demons about the planned New Year’s Eve
executions and related trap. But after seeing what evil had almost
transpired on that night, how close the angels had been to winning
their prize, he promised himself that he would find a way to
protect his family while still fighting for what he believed
in.

The first step was honesty with his family.
He told his wife everything, and although their children were still
quite young, the eldest being seven, she agreed that they could not
risk their children’s recruitment into the army. Preparations were
made quickly, and Andrew’s family, under the guise of a vacation,
was moved to a safe location, far away from their home on Mount
Olympus. In the coming weeks, new identities would be created for
them and they would be moved again. All of these preparations were
necessarily done over the phone, as Andrew would arouse suspicions
if he took a trip away from the mountain during these pivotal days.
While he knew that all phones within the mountain were monitored by
Dionysus’s personal security squad, he had a “clean” phone that he
was able to use to avoid detection.

Getting his family to safety greatly reduced
his fears, and now his attention was focused on the situation at
hand. He continued to pace back and forth, thinking of how to
proceed. If his room had had a carpet or a rug, rather than the
shimmering white tiles, he surely would have worn an anxious path
in the fibers. He did his best thinking while pacing.

Three hours earlier, the Council meeting had
ended and Andrew had rushed to the bathroom, to vomit up the
delectable lunch that was served prior to the meeting. The corn on
the cob, Greek salad, and garlic shrimp, each made a disturbing
reappearance; thankfully, he was able to reach the porcelain halo
before the fireworks began. Going forward, he vowed to chew every
bite into a liquid mush before swallowing, regardless of how
delicious the food was, or how hungry he was.

Ever since his stomach calmed down though, he
had been pacing…and thinking. No matter the risk, he needed to
contact the demons before Dionysus executed his newest strategy. He
couldn’t allow the girl’s father to be used for bait—it would
destroy her.

T
he after-New-Year’s
celebration went off without a hitch, and although everyone knew
that somewhere deep within the angels’ mountain some kind of a
nasty plan was being concocted, for this night they were going to
celebrate what they had to be thankful for: namely, their lives,
and in particular, the lives of the twenty-six angels who had been
recovered.

The feast took place in the rarely used Grand
Dining Hall, which had been speedily decorated for the occasion.
For their guests of honor, the recovered angel spies, a special
table was set up at the front of the room. While light was still
provided in classic demon style—by torch lamps and candles rather
than by fluorescent bulbs like the angels—to commemorate the event,
brilliant white wings and glowing statues had been placed
throughout the Hall.

To kick off the evening, Clifford gave a
wonderfully inspiring speech, during which he more than once
embarrassed Taylor, but also showed great gratitude for the
sacrifices made by everyone in attendance, from the angel spies all
the way down to the demon weapon technicians. He demonstrated to
everyone what a true and pure leader he was; there were no threats
or spats of anger like his angel counterpart, only a genuine belief
in their cause and the people carrying it out. Applause and cheers
followed nearly every line of his unprepared speech, as every ear
appreciated the goodness in Clifford’s words.

He ended with a surprising prophecy. As he
spoke, it was like he was in a strange trance—eyes staring straight
ahead, rather than his typical, engaging style. His normally active
hands hung limply at his side. The boisterous audience fell
completely silent for the first time all night, captivated by the
words that followed.

“The Great War that has plagued us for fifty
years will not last another year,” he declared. Clifford’s voice
was booming, echoing throughout the Hall; he had no need for a
microphone or a bullhorn. “It is not clear who will be victorious,
only that the end is near.” His words had an ominous ring to them
and more than one face flinched upon hearing them.

As quickly as his stone face had appeared, it
retracted, leaving the animated and friendly face of the demon
Elder. He looked down for a moment and then looked up sharply, his
eyes clear and focused. “I don’t know why I said that, only that it
is true. I don’t know if we will win the War, but I know that it
can only be accomplished by the combined effort of those in this
very room. It cannot happen by demons alone, but must be carried
forth by demons, angels, and even humans.” He winked at Taylor and
Sam when he said the last part. “Raise your glasses,” he commanded.
Thousands of goblets went into the air. “May this be the year that
the Great War is won, that humankind is protected, and that we
begin a period of peace amongst all who roam this great earth!”
Cheers erupted throughout the crowd, glasses clinked, and drinks
were drunk. At least for this moment in time, Taylor felt a hope
that had previously eluded her. It would be short-lived.