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  The girls understood what I was getting at and explained that gargoyles run in packs. "It's more than a social thing," Elaina offered. "It's a strategy that helps them defend themselves against their enemies."

  "Enemies like harpies?" I guessed.

  "And Olanders," Elaina muttered with distaste.

  "What are Olanders? Are they anything like Outlanders…or Highlanders?"

  Both of the girls laughed. "Olander is just their last name," Torrie explained. "Their father was human but their mother was a harpy."

  "Which explains why they're so horrible," Elaina growled.

  "How many are there?"

  "Only two that we know of," Elaina replied. "Brother and sister."

  "What do they want with Force and the rest of the pack?"

  "Venom," Torrie answered.

  "Really? Why? It's not like Rafe needs to be any stronger than he already is."

  "The venom has additional benefits," Elaina said and slid a look into the back seat where Torrie sat.

  "It can improve your looks," Torrie explained. "The Olanders want to put it in a new cosmetic product."

  "And Olivia needs it to keep beautiful," Elaina added. "Otherwise she'd look like Bride-o-Frankenstein."

  "Are you serious?" I asked.

  "I'm not sure how ugly she'd get," Elaina answered with a snort. "But she sure as hell wouldn't be the most beautiful billionaire on the planet anymore."

  "So the Olanders are willing to take prisoners just so they can look nice and make millions?" I asked after a thoughtful moment.

  "Billions," Elaina corrected me. "And it's worse than that. They're ready to maim and kill if they have to. At one point, Olivia ordered her men to shoot up Victor's legs to stop him from leaving her lab. Then after he got away, she had all of the men killed who were involved. All the ones she could find, anyway."

  "And I thought Defiance was an Olander," I moaned, cringing at the idea and rubbing my hands into my hot cheeks.

  "Don't feel bad," Torrie insisted right away.

  "No, don't feel bad," Elaina agreed. "Defiance isn't the most innocent looking guy in the world. He gives off a violent vibe. Like he's the pack enforcer or something."

  And that wasn't hard to believe after what I'd seen when I flashed on him. "I noticed that you and Samantha each wear a rune on your arm. Does that somehow make you part of the…pack?" I asked.

  "All of us have a rune," Torrie piped up, sounding kind of proud about it. "Even Whitney. She wears Defiance's rune on a pendant around her neck. Mine is burned into the palm of my hand."

  "And all of the girls have been taken in by the pack," Elaina murmured, braking as she left the highway and steered the car onto the exit. "But that's not why we wear the runes."

  I got the impression there was a big story behind the runes the girls were wearing. But by now we were in the city and I had to start giving directions to my apartment so I never got a chance to follow up and ask.

  They dropped me off in front of Castle Block and hung around to watch me go through the door. On a hunch, I sprinted up the stairs as soon as I was out of sight, flung open the apartment door and hurried across the living room to the front window…just in time to see two young men join the girls in Elaina's rabbit—one blond head and one dark—Reason and Chaos.

  So much for my demand for "no gargoyles" I thought sourly. But I also couldn't help think it was sweet that Elaina and Torrie's boyfriends wouldn't let them travel to Denver alone. That was some pretty strong commitment.

  "Maybe they haven't discovered video games yet," I mused cynically. But deep down I suspected they probably had. And it wouldn't have made the slightest difference to them when it came to the girls' safety.

  Chapter Fourteen

  So a week went by. I played softball when there was a game and made the round of the thrift stores and garage sales, generally clinging to a routine that I found reassuring after all of the near-death experiences I'd recently had. I was hoping for a huge find that would help replenish my college fund and but didn't bring home anything more interesting than an old watch that might bring fifty. And all the time, I kept hoping Force would turn up to apologize and beg my forgiveness and ask me to be his girlfriend. But he hadn't shown up as of Thursday morning and I knew Morris would be there soon to cash in on my promise.

  If ever a girl needed a knight in shining armor, it was me. And it was now. A knight to save me from a fate worse than death with Big Bad Morris Samuels.

  But I gritted my teeth and decided I'd do this with Morris. And I'd damn well enjoy it…even though I couldn't work up one ounce of enthusiasm. So I dragged myself out of bed and brushed my teeth. But I didn't bother with any makeup. And I didn't dress for him either. I slipped into the loosest clothing I could find—a grungy pair of sweatpants and the sloppiest hoodie in my closet. Because why should I help Morris if I didn't have to?

  But when I heard the rap of knuckles on the apartment door, my heart jumped into my throat and almost choked me. It was officially over. I had run out of time. I'd thought I could do this. I thought I could be tough and honor this obligation. But my hands were shaking as I turned the knob and opened the door for Morris.

  Only, I didn't find Morris behind the door. Instead, I found a knight. My knight. Well, minus the armor but otherwise complete with sword and baldric. To be specific, it was the inimitable Sir Force. Yes, I said inimitable. Because I've always wanted to use the word and I was never gonna get a better chance.

  Except for a little bruising, his face had healed up quite nicely. "You look…lovely," he murmured, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned against the doorframe and looked me up and down.

  "Oh, shut up," I growled over the heavy thump of my heart.

  "Special occasion?" he suggested.

  "I was expecting someone else," I said, turning back into the living room. "What are you doin' here anyhow? And what's with the latex gloves?"

  "The gloves mask the scent of our venom so the Olanders can't track us. Pretty clever, huh? Defiance's lass figured it out. Her father's a doctor."

  "Pretty clever," I agreed.

  "So, who are you expecting?"

  "My new boyfriend," I threw back at him. "For as long as he lasts," I muttered beneath my breath.

  "Boyfriend?" he echoed, and I saw an edge of violence glittering in his steely gray eyes. And even though I knew the violence wasn't directed at me, I backed away from him to put some room between us. "When did you get a boyfriend?" he asked, stalking into the room.

  "This morning." I checked the clock on the microwave in the kitchen. "In about five minutes."

  He let out a sigh in a long hiss. "So this boyfriend hasn't happened yet?"

  "Not quite," I answered.

  "Good," he growled softly and took a step closer. "I'm…sorry I couldn't get here any sooner."

  "I wasn't expecting you," I shot back.

  "I told you I needed a week and a few gallons of water."

  "I wasn't expecting you," I repeated, lifting my chin and backing all the way into the kitchen. "At all."

  He dropped onto a barstool. "Well, you should have. You rescued me from that lab."

  I filled a glass with water and pushed it toward him. "You saved my life," I answered with a careless shrug. "So we're even. You don't owe me anything. I don't owe you."

  Which was true. And at that point, the only outstanding obligation I had was Morris. Who was gonna be knocking on that door any second now. I eyed the door nervously.

  "Sorry I made such a fool of myself when I attacked your brother."

  "It wasn't your fault," he murmured. "You were trying to protect me. I'm…sorry I kept you in the dark about so many things."

  I thrust my fingers deep into the thick mass of my hair. "He must think I'm insane."

  "Defiance? Nay. He thought you were very brave," Force insisted quietly.

  "I'm sorry," I repeated. "But why would his best memory be killing a man?"

  "Because, along with
two others, that man killed our mother."

  "And your brother killed all three of them?"

  "Aye," he answered.

  "Wow," I sighed. "He really holds a grudge, doesn't he?"

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Why do you say that?"

  I shrugged. "Because the murder must have happened—what—centuries ago?"

  "Eight hundred years," he confirmed.

  "And his revenge is still his best memory. But when I flashed on the rest of your family their best memories all involved—"

  "Their lasses," he finished for me.

  I nodded. "How'd you know?"

  "I pay attention," he reminded me quietly.

  "So why are you here?" I asked again.

  He took a long drink from the glass and set it back on the counter. He looked so…arrogant, so…sure of himself. I don't know how anyone can look so masculine and so beautiful at the same time. "I thought maybe we could start over," he suggested.

  "Okay," I said, playing along while keeping an eye on the door. "But get started and talk fast. Because we don't have much time before Morris shows up."

  He made a face at the mention of Morris's name but he got going. With his elbows propped on the counter and his hands loosely clasped in front of his face, he said, "Hello, my name is Force."

  "Last name," I demanded, ignoring what his eyes were doing to my insides and trying not to melt from the waist down.

  "I don't really have a last name but my family are known as Stoneworkers-of-York. I'm a gargoyle from the thirteenth century."

  "Okay. Good," I coached him. "Good start."

  "You're probably wondering what it means to be a gargoyle. Well, to begin with, I have wings and can fly. And I can turn to stone as long as I have access to direct sunlight. In fact, I spent eight centuries trapped in my stone form, stuck between two walls in England where the sun couldn't reach me."

  "Indeed?" I said, lifting my eyebrows and widening my eyes and generally acting like this was all news to me.

  "Indeed," he answered. "My family and I were only recently discovered and shipped to America last fall where I remained in my stone form until the spring. You might wonder why I know so much about modern times when I was trapped for so long. That's because I could still hear during that time. So I know many things that can be described with words—songs and stories and facts—but I don't necessarily recognize things that were invented in the last eight centuries. Like I know tuna is a fish, for instance. But I never expected to see it in a small metal container."

  "What else?" I asked, smiling despite myself.

  "Well, let's see. I guess I should warn you about my talons."

  "Talons?"

  "Aye. They look like claws or spikes or even barbs. But it's important for you to know they carry deadly poison. And when we're together, you must be careful that I don't accidentally scratch you."

  "Noted," I said, although I didn't think we'd be spending much time together after I had my little rendezvous with Morris. "What else?"

  "When I reached the United States, I was separated from my family."

  "How did that happen?" I asked.

  "Harpies," he answered.

  "Harpies," I echoed, playing along like I'd never heard of them before. "Do I want to know about harpies?"

  "Nay," he answered emphatically. "You don't want to know about harpies. But they're monstrously dangerous creatures and you should avoid them at all cost."

  "Worse than Olanders?"

  "Aye," he answered.

  "That's hard to believe but…I'll take your word for it," I said and smothered a smile.

  "My senses tell me whether a person is good or bad," he went on. "I can't read but I can learn."

  "What else?"

  "When I was young, I wanted to be a warrior. Most of my life, I wanted to be a warrior. That's all I cared about. I never wanted to get involved with a lass because I was afraid she'd slow me down."

  "And now?" I asked, holding my breath.

  But instead of answering, he asked, "Is it too soon to ask for a kiss?"

  "We only just met," I reminded him. "So why don't you go ahead and tell me how you feel about girls now."

  "Now," he said slowly and thoughtfully. "Now, I think maybe I'm ready to slow down a bit. Now, I'm wondering why I was in such a hurry in the first place."

  A sudden burst of warmth took hold of my heart as I looked at him and smiled. "That…sounds suspiciously romantic."

  He shook his head while holding my gaze. "You know I don't believe in romance."

  "What is it then, if it's not romantic?"

  Amazingly, he looked suddenly unsure of himself. Which was a new look for him. He ducked his head and gazed up at me from beneath the shadow of his brow. "I…don't know the words to use. And I'm afraid I'll blow it if I try to talk about it."

  "Just…use simple words," I suggested.

  He pulled in a deep breath. "I gotta have you," he said quietly.

  Well, I asked for simple. And that's what I got. But I knew those four words meant as much as a whole flowery paragraph…that would sound silly coming out of his mouth. "Anything else?"

  "Aye. I need you."

  Then he surprised me.

  "A lot," he added. "I think I might love you."

  "You think so?"

  "I'm pretty sure," he answered solemnly.

  "What kind of love?" I asked, after clearing my throat so my voice wouldn't break. "The kind that lasts once? The kind that lasts twice?"

  "I suppose it would depend on the lass," he answered, the trace of a smirk touching his lips.

  "And what if the lass were me?" I asked, holding my breath.

  His smirk died. His gaze locked on mine and he was dead serious when he answered, "I think I might be the forever kind of guy."

  I'm not kidding. Swoon time, right? I kept my lips pressed firmly together because I was afraid if I opened them the only thing that would come out was a long, breathless squee.

  That's when Morris knocked on the door.

  Force spun around on the barstool, his sharp gaze targeting the apartment door. "So are we good here?" he asked. "Shall I tell your boyfriend to get lost or shall I leave the honor to you?"

  "It's…not that simple," I answered, chewing on my bottom lip while my stomach churned like a washing machine on the spin cycle.

  "What is it?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft. "What's wrong, lass?"

  "I…have to do this," I stammered. "I made Morris a promise."

  His gaze got sharper and his eyes narrowed into slits. He watched the door like he was ready to storm the gates as soon as it opened. "I'm not going to give you up without a fight," he growled.

  "Please, Force. You have to listen."

  "I'm not going to give you up at all," he said in a sliding rasp. "Promises or no promises."

  And while all this drama was going on inside the apartment, Morris got tired of waiting. He opened the door and sauntered in with a smug, satisfied look on his face. At least he looked smug right up until he noticed Force sitting at the end of the room. Then he didn't look so sure of himself. He looked more bristly as he eyed Force, and acted like someone was invading his turf.

  So what could I do? I introduced the two guys.

  There was a lot of friction in the air when they shook hands. And I wondered if Force was crushing Morris's hand and if Morris was trying to do the same. And I guessed that if they were, Force was probably winning the hand-crushing contest.

  I backed away, feeling a little defeated and not knowing how to tell Force what was going on. How to tell him what had happened. I didn't want to make Morris look like the bad guy. On the other hand, I did NOT want to go into that bedroom with him. Ever.

  I lifted my hand and motioned toward Leo's brother. "Morris did me a favor and drove me to Boulder after you were kidnapped by Rafe and his thugs. I owe him."

  "What do you owe him?" Force asked me with his eyes locked on Morris.

  "That'
s…hard to explain," I said in a low voice.

  "Start at the beginning," Force suggested in a voice like steel. "And just use simple words."

  I took a deep breath and let it out. "I keep my promises."

  Still watching Morris, Force nodded. "I understand. What did you promise him?"

  I hung my head. "Unspecified favors."

  "Favors!" he whispered, his voice silky with violence. "You promised him your favors?"

  "Well, that's kind of an old fashioned way of putting it but, yes. More or less," I muttered.

  "That's not going to work," he stated.

  "Yeah, I thought it might be a problem. But to be honest, I did it for you, Force. I needed a ride to Boulder to help you. So it won't be very fair if you don't like me after I do this with Morris."

  His eyes narrowed in a grimace. "Oh, I'm still gonna like you. That's not the problem."

  "Then what's the problem?" I asked from a dry throat, hoping for a solution that would help me avoid my promise to Morris.

  Without breaking eye contact with Morris, Force gave his head a shake that was almost apologetic. "Your friend here might end up dead."

  "Oh," I said, the word bursting from my lungs.

  Considerably less impressed than I was, Morris rolled his eyes and snorted. "Good luck with that."

  But I knew Force was entirely capable of the crime. And he didn't necessarily need his venom or his sword. After seeing the way he ripped those leather restraints open, I assumed he could do the job with his bare hands. "Why?" I asked. "Are you…jealous?"

  "Maybe," Force answered. "Partly. But it bothers me that your friend here is making you do something you don't want to do."

  "She'll enjoy herself once I get started," Morris claimed with a smirk.

  I glared at him. "You're disgusting, you know that?"

  Morris rolled his running-back shoulders. "Nobody ever complained before."

  Force rubbed his fingers across his chin and looked like he was contemplating different ways to end the life of my best friend's brother. "I think we need to come up with a different arrangement."

  Morris gave him a bored look like he wasn't gonna let anyone intimidate him. "What are you thinking?"