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Victor
A Greystone Novel
Book Six
by Taylor Longford
Smashwords Edition
ISBN 9780989278577
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Victor Copyright 2014 © Taylor Longford
www.taylorlongford.com
Electronic Book Publication April 2014
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Taylor Longford.
Warning: Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher's permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Books in the Greystone Series:
Valor
Dare
Reason
Defiance
Chaos
Victor
VICTOR
A GREYSTONE NOVEL
Book Six
by
Taylor Longford
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Victor's Prologue
As the oldest son of the pack leader, I was probably destined to lead. Not that I was born with any particular skills to do so. But with a name like Victor and a rune that symbolized the gargoyle crown, I was probably meant to assume leadership of the pack one day. It just wasn't meant to happen at such a young age. I was sixteen when I took on that role. My cousins and I had just lost our fathers and before we even had a chance to grieve, I found myself at the center of a crisis.
As the leader, I was responsible for the pack's well being. It was my job to make sure we had food, shelter, clothing and fuel for the hearth. It was my responsibility to decide who should tend our animals, who should hunt, who should work our small plot of land down by the river, and who should collect firewood. But the main source of our livelihood came from our employment as stoneworkers, our family having built most of the bridges around York.
Up until then, my father had handled all of our building agreements with the city. But on the news of his sudden death, the mayor and his councilmen decided to give our work to another family of builders. It took some quick maneuvering on my part to convince the councilmen to leave the contract with us. We had a reputation for fine work but there was more than reputation involved. In those days, as in modern times, politics were involved. There were egos to be stroked and favors to be pledged. I went door to door and contacted each of the councilmen with small gifts and large promises.
In several cases, the councilmen were eager to find a promising match for one of their daughters, and I found myself in the position of courting several young lasses at the same time…as well as juggling a few bold wives who took me aside to tell me their husbands wouldn't make a deal without their blessing.
So I did what was necessary for the sake of the pack. I charmed, I flirted and narrowly escaped marriage at least three times. I confess that it wasn't all work. But I can also tell you there was a lot of acting involved. And by the time I was nineteen I'd earned the reputation as York's most notorious lover. Which is ironic…because even though I knew a lot about women, I knew nothing at all about love.
The next eight centuries added little to my knowledge of love because I spent those years locked in my stone form, along with the rest of my pack, trapped between two walls of a house in York. And when I awoke in the twenty-first century in Colorado, I found myself with a whole new, modern set of issues to deal with.
In many ways, my duties as pack leader hadn't changed much since we'd left the thirteenth century behind. It was still my responsibility to make sure we had food and clothing, as well as a place to live. Fortunately, we'd left York with enough old silver in our pouches to pay cash for the rental home we were living in, the coins having increased in value over the centuries.
And right away we got to work, building hunting bows to sell online. The business was just starting to pick up when Chaos brought home some harpy treasure that was worth a small fortune. So we started looking for a second home in the Boulder area to replace the tiny place Reason was sharing with Elaina. Recently Chaos had joined them so he could be close to Torrie. So three people were crammed into what was called a studio apartment; they really needed more room.
Chaos wanted to buy a home in Torrie's neighborhood but I wasn't sure we wanted to be close enough to come under the watchful eye of her father. And we couldn't actually purchase a place in any of our names because we didn't have the social security numbers required to pay property taxes. So that meant we'd have to put the house in MacKenzie or Elaina's name and I felt like they were too young to take on the responsibility of the pack's financial obligations. But we'd found an old mansion on three wooded acres at the edge of town that was offering "rent-to-own" terms and any payments we made would go toward the eventual purchase of the house. So we thought that would be ideal for the time being.
The place had been empty for at least ten years and needed a lot of work but building was in our blood and I was looking forward to getting started and had several ideas for the renovation project. And with a little luck, we could convince MacKenzie, Mim and Whitney to go to school in Boulder when they graduated from high school in two years. Then the pack could stay together which was traditional in the gargoyle culture and especially important to me as the pack leader. I'm not saying I'd stand in the way of a gargoyle who wanted to follow his lass somewhere else. I just knew that it wouldn't be me following a girl to some other town or city. I was the pack leader and I'd stay with the pack. And as the leader, my main focus was finding the missing members of our family.
When MacKenzie's stepfather shipped us from England to his home in Colorado, the shipping van carrying Defiance's brothers crashed in Limon. We'd been looking for Force and Courage ever since. My brother, Chaos, was with them at the time of the accident and after we were reunited with him, we learned that Courage was injured in the fire but helped the driver before escaping from the harpies that had been following the van. Force was carried off a little ways by one of the monsters before she dropped him. We think he landed in a ravine that shielded him from the sun so that he couldn't make the change to his living form. Some deep furrows at the edge of the gully suggested that someone had dragged him from the ditch and carried him away in a truck.
Fortunately, we had a federal agent on our side. And Agent Simpson had circulated Reason's drawings of Courage and Force around the local law authorities in the Limon area where our missing family members were last seen. So we were hopeful that they'd eventually turn up. But that didn't mean we were waiting around and doing nothing. Every few weeks we made a trip out to Limon, asking around town and making a twilight flight to search the ground. On the rooftops of several abandoned buildings, we'd painted runes that meant "home" and left messages tucked inside plastic bags that were stapled to the shingles. If Force and
Courage were in the air, they'd see the runes and hopefully find the messages we'd left for them. True, they couldn't read modern English, but hopefully they'd make friends that would understand the notes with MacKenzie's address.
In the meantime, Valor had taken out Grotschka in Pine Grove when she threatened his MacKenzie. And Dare finished off Nitschka in Limon, while Reason ended Motschka's life in the foothills outside Boulder. The last harpy we'd had to deal with was a monster named Vilschka. She died when she impaled herself on Chaos's wingtip as he was trying to protect Torrie. And now that harpies were no longer a threat, we were ready to find Force and Courage, fit into twenty-first society and live out our lives peacefully.
But the search to locate the missing members of the pack wasn't my only concern. I had all the usual worries of the pack leader as well, like settling internal disputes, for instance…most of which involved Havoc in one way or another. And I'd never admit it to his face, but I was worried about Defiance.
While Valor, Dare, Reason and Chaos had all marked their lasses, Whitney wasn't wearing Defiance's rune on her arm. And that really messed with his instincts, creating a lot of unsatisfied urges. But he'd promised Whitney's father he wouldn't mark her before her eighteenth birthday. I knew what a strain it was for him to fight his instincts. And I wished there was something I could do to ease his torment.
Dare's situation was slightly better because he'd marked Mim but she lived several miles away and it was difficult for him to be parted from her. But Dare's strong, probably the strongest gargoyle I'd ever known. So I hoped he could hold up under the pressure.
Valor's situation wasn't nearly so bad because we lived right next door to his MacKenzie. And Reason was sharing an apartment with Elaina so he was in good shape. Chaos was in the same boat as Dare, his girlfriend living a few miles away from where he was staying with Reason and Elaina. But Chaos wasn't likely to break under the strain. He was more likely to break all the rules and fly over to Torrie's house in broad daylight, banging on her door and demanding to see her, which was a problem in itself…and the reason why I planned to get that place in Boulder as soon as possible, so I could move out there and keep my eye on him.
At least I didn't have to worry about Havoc. He was the world's biggest flirt and happy to stay that way. He wasn't going to fall for some girl and do something crazy. I only pitied the lass who took him seriously.
And me? Well, traditionally the leader of the pack is the last gargoyle to give away his rune. And I didn't intend to break that tradition.
Chapter One
"What do you like best about the twenty-first century?" Torrie asked no one in particular. She cradled a pine sapling in one hand and lifted the other to push her straw-colored hair out of her eyes. She was growing her hair. Not all of it, just the front part. Her bangs reached down to her nose and she looked like a wild pixie. Cute, but wild.
It was a sunny spring day and we were planting trees on our lot in the foothills west of Denver. The occasional mound of snow could still be found in places where the trees shaded the ground below, but most of the white stuff had recently melted off, leaving the soil damp and perfect for the job.
Our landlord had cleared his lot the summer before, slashing the hundred-year growth to the ground and leaving a deep scar on the land. That might sound like I'm being dramatic but I've seen the satellite maps of our neighborhood and our rental property stands out like a sore thumb, a barren patch in the forest.
We didn't know why David Blocker had decided to mow down every tree on his land but he was one of the ugliest souls we'd ever run into and we suspected he just liked to destroy things. Thankfully, he'd moved to Alaska and had offered the place for rent. And while he was out of the way, we were bringing the forest back, digging up young trees on Mac's property next door where they were growing on top of each other and transferring them to the lot where we lived. Mackenzie and Valor had gone over her acreage earlier in the day, marking the trees she wanted to transplant with orange survey tape.
"You," Chaos answered, taking the damp bundle of life from Torrie's hands and placing it in the hole he'd prepared for it. He looked up at her, his eyes glowing a brilliant aqua through the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his face. "Is this some kind of trick question?"
Torrie laughed softly as she gazed down at him, kneeling on the ground and pressing the sapling into the wet soil. "Besides me. Besides the girls you've met since you got here."
"We can't pick girls?" Havoc exclaimed as he came up behind her with another young tree to plant. "That's not fair. That doesn't leave much as a first choice."
"Nay," Valor and Dare agreed together.
"Okay," Torrie gave in with a warm burst of laugher. "What's the second best thing?"
"Cars and trucks," Chaos answered at once. "Being able to travel so fast without flying."
"You don't miss horses?" she teased him.
"Not much," he laughed. "I certainly don't miss cleaning up after them."
"What about you?" Torrie asked, springing the question on Havoc.
"Chocolate," he answered like he was ready for her. "And that pirate video game."
"Really?" she questioned him, looking surprised even though she was a big gamer, herself. "A video game?"
"It appeals to the warrior in me," he explained and shrugged his long dreadlocks behind his shoulder. "And besides, I've always wanted to be a pirate."
"You're can't pick two things," Defiance grunted. He normally worked at the stables on Saturday but he'd made arrangements to have the day off. He was supposed to be helping with the replanting project but he spent most of his time about two inches away from Whitney. A smoldering hunger haunted his gray gaze whenever he looked at her.
Havoc spent the next several seconds looking torn as he tried to choose between chocolate and pirates. "Chocolate," he finally said.
A wicked smile lifted Defiance's mouth as he leaned against a tree and pulled Whitney into his arms, his pale blond ponytail matching the color of her long straight hair. "Then I'll take the video game."
I'm sure he only picked the game to annoy his younger cousin. And it appeared to work. Havoc looked like he'd been robbed. "So you don't care about motorcycles?" he challenged. He was referring to the antique motorbike that Defiance's boss had recently sent home with him. "If you don't care about the Indian, maybe you should give it to me."
"What would you do with it?" Defiance snorted like Havoc was too young for a motorcycle.
"Take Whitney for a ride," Havoc shot back.
Aye, Defiance had walked into that one. And he started to bristle right away. But before he could take a shot at Havoc, Dare intervened.
"I'd pick Tyvek," he cut in swiftly, a light breeze ruffling through his dark hair and sending the white ends tumbling across his shoulders. Of course he was talking about the material Mim had used to make his wings.
"That's not too hard to believe," Torrie answered and smiled at Mim. "How 'bout you, Reason?"
"Pencils," he answered thoughtfully as he waited for Mac to decide where the next hole should go. "And pens. They're so much easier to work with compared to the bits of charcoal I used to draw with back in the day. But Chinese food is a close second."
"And you, Valor?" MacKenzie asked, her thick red hair bundled into a knot at the base of her neck, her brown eyes warm as she gazed at her boyfriend standing beside her. "What's your favorite thing about modern times?"
"Well, Havoc has already taken chocolate," he answered, and pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "So I guess maybe I'd pick communication. Telephones and television and the Internet. They've made life a lot more convenient. It's nice being able to talk to people right away, wherever they are, even if they're not close."
Torrie turned to me and grinned expectantly. "That leaves you, Victor."
Aye, that left me. But I didn't tell her what I was thinking. I didn't go into how our leap to the future had freed me from balancing a bunch of unwanted romantic obli
gations. I loved the twenty-first. It had given me freedom from my past. And a chance to start over in a world where women and girls weren't expecting me to act like Casanova and do the whole bodice-ripping thing.
Freedom to be myself. Sure, I was still in flirt-mode when I first stepped out of my packing crate. I was still Victor of York when I was introduced to MacKenzie and Mim. But since then, I'd broken out of that mold; now I was Victor of Pine Grove. And a lot happier.
But by now everyone was waiting for my answer. "Hooligan," I answered as I caught sight of the big dog galloping back toward us from the direction of the park.
Hearing his name, the gray wolfhound veered in my direction, shoving his head under my hand when he reached me. Like the others, I was wearing a thick pair of leather gloves so I couldn't give him a good scratch behind the ears, and he had to settle for a thump on the side.
"Really?" Torrie challenged me. "Hooligan? That's it?"
"Aye," I answered mildly. "Why not? He helped Havoc save Sophie from those mountain lions. The dog's a hero."
A few weeks earlier, three big lions had trapped MacKenzie's stepsister in front of the garage. The little girl's screams had brought Havoc and Hooligan racing to the scene and together they'd managed to kill the dangerous animals. One of them had fallen victim to Havoc's barbs and was currently standing in his bedroom, poised on its hind legs, frozen with its jaws open, pouncing for the kill. The last time I saw it, Havoc's hoodie was hanging from one of its paws.
I leaned over and gave Hooli another friendly thump on his side.
"Just Hooligan?" Torrie challenged me again.
"And probably music," I offered. "Music has come a long way since the thirteenth century. Other than that, I love the camera MacKenzie gave me for Christmas."