Gargoyle: A Reawakening (Briarcliff Series, #2) (2 page)

“
Mine?”

“
Yeah,” he said, reopening
the door, bringing the gargoyle’s face back in her line of vision.
“Your bruises and bumps.” He let go of the door and turned walked
toward her. His movements were sleek… graceful, reminding her of a
panther.

“
Something got me,” she
mumbled, picking at a loose thread in the carpet.

“
Oh, so that’s why you
attacked me?”

“
Yep
.” She groaned, rubbing her
forehead embarrassed. “That’s why I attacked you.” She kind-of
hoped wouldn’t bring it up. It wasn’t one of her better moments but
she had thought he was coming back to finish off the job he started
earlier, like to do her in.

He laughed out loud then,
the sound reverberating throughout the vast foyer of
Briarcliff.

She scowled at him for a
moment but then began to laugh too. Then their eyes met and
something happened. Their laughter dried up, replaced by something
else, something …
different
.

He broke eye contact with her first and
raked his hand through his hair. “This is harder than I thought,”
he muttered, under his breath.

What was harder?
She shifted awkwardly on the stair not sure if
she had heard him right.

He started to pace back
and forth. His long strides quickly eating up the space of the
foyer before he turned and headed in the opposite direction. He
reminded her of a caged animal. Like how tigers prowl back and
forth at the zoo, or lions. Then he stopped right in front of her,
curiously watching her for a minute. It seemed like a lot longer.
Then he inclined his head toward the stair. “Do you
mind?”

“
No, no, not at all,” she
said and scooted over on to make room for him. It was funny he
seemed even bigger sitting beside her than he had standing above
her. Again, his body’s proximity to her own made her heart start
thumping wildly. Nervously she picked at the fuzzy piece of string
on the carpet. It was too quiet. Even the small army of crickets
hopping back and forth on the floor had stopped making their
annoying noises. She turned to look at him, and forgot how to
breathe; he was staring right at her, watching her.

“
What’s your
name?”

“
Evie.”

“
I like your name, Evie.”
He smiled.

“
Thank you.” She smiled
back at him. The way he said her name made her feel warm all over.
She knew it was stupid but she couldn’t help it. Besides no one had
ever told her they liked her name before, well…except her parents
and they didn’t count. “So what’s your…”

“
Why are you here?” he
interrupted her.

“
I’m here for the party…”
Her brow creased. “Wait… aren’t you here for the party
too?”

He sat up and rubbed the palms of his hands
on the tops of his jeans. “Sure.”

“
So how’d you get here? I
mean I didn’t hear a car,” she asked, lifting her hand and
smoothing the frayed edge on her skirt.

“
I didn’t
come here…
in a car
.”

“
You walked?” There was no
way her ass would walk up that drive in the dark, but obviously, he
wasn’t adverse to it.

“
I guess you could say
that.” He shrugged.

Huh
? “Did someone drop you off at the top of the road or
something?”

“
Sure,” he said again, his
lips twitched upward.

His smile was unnerving. Her stomach did
that funky flip thing again. She grabbed her little Wolfie choker
and jerked it back and forth nervously.

When he looked at her
again all traces of laughter was gone from his face. “So, you want
to tell me what happened to you, you know before I got
here?”

Evie pressed her lips firmly together, and
made a locking gesture with her fingers, shaking her head no.

“
Come on, tell me,” he
coaxed, his voice velvety, soft.

“
No way,”
she refused, even though it was hard to deny
that
face. “You’ll think I’m
crazy.”

He smiled again and shoved
his hands into his pockets. “I
promise,
I won’t think you’re
crazy.”

“
Its hot right?” she asked,
plucking at the front of her jacket. It felt like the sun was
beating down against her suddenly.

He shrugged. “Not to me.”

Of course he
wasn’t
. He was probably the
only
reason she was
sweating bullets right now.

“
So,” he said. “Are you
going to tell me or not?”

“
Fine
,” she partially groaned, her
stern minute of refusal completely shot to hell. “I will tell you,
but it’s out there. I mean
really
out there. So don’t judge. Got
it?”

“
Got it,” he agreed. A
dimple dented in on the left side of his cheek as he gave her a
reassuring smile. She wanted to touch it and imagined running her
fingers across his smooth, soft looking skin, wondering if it was
just as smooth and soft to the touch.

“
Evie…”

“
Huh?” Evie jerked her eyes
to his.

“
You can begin anytime
now.”

“
Right…sorry,” she said,
trying to refocus and cleared her throat. “I think a statue of a
Gargoyle came to life and attacked me,” she said in a rush. As soon
as the words were out of her mouth she wanted to backtrack and
laugh it off…pretend, like she was kidding but it was too late.
Lifting her hand, she rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, it was
gross.”

His face went completely
blank and then he choked on a cough or a laugh, she couldn’t tell
which. “Gargoyles are gross?” he repeated, seeming to have a hard
time swallowing what she told him.

She could sympathize. She felt the same way.
“Hey, you weren’t here, so don’t judge.”

“
Yes.” He shook his head.
“I mean no. Not really.”

She narrowed her eyes at
him. “You didn’t show up until
after
…right?”

“
Right,
”
he
agreed.

“
Are you answering my
question or asking me a question?”

He merely shrugged his shoulders.

Flustered she shook her head. “I don’t get
it?”

“
I don’t get it.” He shook
his head too.

“
Are you copying
me?”

“
No.”

“
Why do I not believe
you?”

He shrugged indifferently and then he
smiled.

“
You’re bad,” she said,
smiling too.

“
So I’ve been told,” he
said. “So how’d you get away?”

Hell if I know.
“Luck? I don’t really know.” She shrugged. “One
minute it was dragging me down the stairs and the next it was gone
and when you walked in well…” She smiled sheepishly up at him and
tucked her hair behind her ears. “I thought it was coming back to
finish me off but it was
you
instead, so…ah, you know sorry…again.”

He waved off her apology.
“I have to ask, why do you think it was the Gargoyle?”

She blew out a long slow
breath. “Well, earlier. I was in here with a …person.” When he gave
her a questioning glance, she waved her hand. “He’s…I mean
they
are not important.”
Her face reddened. “Anyway, there was a big statue of one right
here, beside these stairs.” She pointed to the bare spot on the
marble the checkered tiles much lighter and cleaner than the rest
of the floor. And of course, she left out the part that she had
been talking to it. “It
was
here before I was attacked,” she said with
conviction, she wasn’t too sure he believed her. She couldn’t blame
him. “And see…” she pointed back to the spot, “he’s gone
now?”

An amused look flitted over his face. “Why
are you calling it a he and not an it?”

“
I don’t
know. It looked like a he, I guess…got me.” She frowned down at the
floor.
Why was she calling it a
he?

“
Are they coming back for
you?”

“
Huh?” She pulled her gaze
up from the floor.

“
Your friends,” he
elaborated, and then looked uneasily around the room, like he heard
something she didn’t.

“
I guess they will show up
at some point.” She looked across the room. The door was swinging
slightly in the breeze making the gargoyle face in the center come
into and out of her line of vision, seemingly taunting
her.

Leaning back, he looked
upward toward the higher levels inside the house. She followed his
line of vision. Stairways were on both sides stacked upon one
another then breaking in hallways leading to who knew where. He
turned and she caught sight of a crazy looking tattoo on the inside
of his left forearm. It looked burned-embedded into his skin
instead of inked on the top. Small welts rose on each line, like
scars. It was a deep, blackish color. She wished she had her
sketchpad and pencils so she could draw the pattern. It would not
be an easy design to tattoo, especially with the raised lines. She
leaned closer to him trying to get a better look, not quite able to
believe it had taken her so long to notice it.

“
What are you
doing?”

She fell back. “I was
looking at… your tattoo.”

“
Why? Do you recognize
it?”

What?
“No,” she blurted, suddenly feeling like a kid who was caught
doing something wrong.

He stood abruptly. “I need
to tell you something.”

“
Oh—kay.” A shiver of panic
trembled in her stomach.

“
It would probably be
easier if I showed you.” He held out his hand to her.

She reached out and
grabbed hold of his hand. A flash of heat spread up her arm,
instantly warming her all over as he pulled her easily to her
feet.

“
Come on,” he urged,
tugging on her hand slightly.

Not expecting his
strength, she stumbled forward and smashed against his body. He
smelled… different. It was a strange combination of lingering
remnants of cologne and something unidentifiable, headier. It drew
her in. The very air around them became charged. It was as though
time had stopped and she was caught in the moment, unable to do
anything but
feel
…not able to stop herself she pressed up on her tiptoes, her
hands sliding up his chest… he leaned closer too. She held her
breath. She knew without a doubt he was going to kiss her and she
was going to let him…

“
I’m sorry.” He took a
deliberate step away.

Evie felt so many things
at once she wasn’t sure which craptastic emotion took precedence
over the others. Scotty’s voice from Star Trek echoed in her mind
like a loudspeaker:
‘Oh nooo Captain she’s
been hit…again. She can’t take much more of this or were going ta
have ta shut her down.’
“Did I do
something wrong,” she heard her big mouth ask like a pathetic
little peon.

“
Oh
Evie,” he exhaled and raked his hands over his face. “No, you
haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me…” he trailed off.

O-migod!
He was giving her the
“It’s not you it’s me speech”.
She
felt sick. She cast her eyes to her feet, mentally gathering the
decorations for the pity party she was getting ready to throw
herself. She would need a crown emblazed with the word “Rejected”
and…

“
Evie…”

She looked up at
him.

“
I…” he shook his head and
exhaled sharply. A mask of uncertainty and something deeper, more
alarming, etched across his beautiful face. “Say something
…anything…”

“
Ah…” She drew a
blank.

“
Please
….”

“
Neerg,” she blurted
quickly.

A confused look came over his face but then
it changed and he almost smiled.

“
I spell words backward in
my head when I am nervous, mostly colors,” she explained, feeling
like an idiot.

“
Backwards
hmm
?” Some of his tension seemed to fade. “Interesting,” he said
his tone lighter.

“
Not really.”

This time he did smile.
“Come on, I need to show you something,” he said but didn’t grab
hold of her hand.

Evie shoved her hands in
her pockets and followed him out the front door of Briarcliff
Manor. The air was sharp, crisp, with the kind of chill that took
your breath away. She burrowed her nose down inside her hoodie. An
owl hooted in the distance.

He stood off to her side and lifted his hand
up in the air. “See the moon.”

“
Yeah,” she answered,
looking up at the giant blue orb. A strange blue hue spread out
from it, seemingly growing in size the longer she stared at it. She
pulled her eyes away.