Chapter Five

  "Has anything like that ever happened before?" I asked the gargoyle.

  "No." Valor's gaze settled on the top of my head as if he was looking for an explanation beneath my hat. His dark eyebrows pulled together like he wasn't happy with what he saw. "Is it common for girls to cover their heads nowadays?"

  "No, my hair just…doesn't behave." I pulled off my hat and my hair poured over my shoulders in a tangled mass of red. "See what I mean?"

  His eyes widened in a startled look of shock as he swiftly averted his gaze. I watched his mouth form a grim line while his expression turned aloof and distant, as if he'd lost all interest in talking to me.

  I couldn't understand the reason for his sudden change in attitude. The way he'd shifted gears had me reeling. Earlier, he'd seemed friendly, if reserved. Now he was acting like he didn't want to know me. And it appeared to be because of my hair—as if he had something against redheads. I know a lot of people don't consider red hair attractive but surely he couldn't hate redheads that much.

  An unfamiliar sense of loss settled in my chest like a dull ache as I captured my hair inside my hat again and tugged it back over my head. I tried to think of something to say that might break the uncomfortable silence. Unfortunately, I was so rattled I couldn't think of a single thing.

  "The forest is angry," he eventually said without looking at me.

  It seemed odd that he would express what I'd been thinking only the day before. But I knew it wasn't possible for the trees to be angry. "It's only the wind moving through the branches," I pointed out flatly.

  "When the trees are content, the wind moves through the branches with a soft sound. This is a harsh sound. Listen," he insisted.

  I tilted my head and listened. I had to agree the forest sounded mad. "The neighbor has been clear-cutting his lot."

  "That would explain the forest's dark mood," he muttered, still without looking at me.

  "If the trees are so angry," I snipped, "then why doesn't one of them fall on him?"

  Finally, a slight smile edged his mouth. "They've probably been trying to, but humans move fast compared to trees. It's like you or me trying to catch a fly in our hands."

  "They've probably been trying to?" I snorted. I almost laughed out loud but I checked Valor's face and decided against it; he seemed to be serious. Hmph. I doubted the trees were trying to fall on my neighbor, but I liked the idea.

  Valor fell silent again.

  I hated the uneasy quiet so I searched for another topic of conversation. "Stone can be broken and crushed," I pointed out. "And you said the harpies were bigger than gargoyles. If they wanted to destroy you, why didn't they just find themselves a hammer and chisel?"

  "We're more than common rock," he murmured. "We're pretty nigh indestructible when we're in our stone forms."

  I thought this over. "Then why didn't they pick you up and throw you into the sea?"

  He sent me a dark look. "You're a bloodthirsty lass, aren't you?"

  I felt my cheeks darken with heat. "That's not what I meant," I insisted awkwardly.

  He stared at me a moment before he started talking again. "They could have picked us up if we hadn't been fused to the stone floor of the croft."

  A frown furrowed my brow as I tried to make sense of his answer.

  "When we turn to stone, our clothing makes the change as well," he explained in an impersonal monotone. "Everything in direct contact with our skin turns to stone. That means our shoes would turn to stone, if we were wearing them. But if we aren't wearing shoes, a thin layer of the soil or rock beneath our feet turns to the hard material that we're made of."

  "If that's true, then how was my stepfather able to pry you away from the stone floor in the croft?"

  "The hut's floor had eroded beneath the layer of stone fused to our feet and we came away easily." He stepped inside the garage and showed me the flat piece of stone in the bottom of the packing crate. It had returned to its original form, a dark, reddish slate. "The harpies would have carried us off if they could have, but they weren't trying to destroy us."

  "They weren't?"

  But instead of responding, Valor turned his head as if he'd heard something outside the garage. "Something's coming," he said.

  Together, we stepped back to the open garage doors as the shipping van appeared at the bend in the driveway. I was surprised when Valor moved in front of me and put his arm out as if to shield me from the large vehicle trundling up toward the house.

  "It's the just delivery van," I told him when I realized he hadn't seen the vehicle that had brought him to my house the day before.

  "Ah," he murmured as the stiff line of his shoulders relaxed.

  The driver managed to avoid running over Hooligan who was still sprawled in front of the garage. Then he kept a wary eye on the dog as he stepped from the van. But Hooli just stretched and yawned then closed his eyes and went back to sleep. A few minutes later, two new packing boxes sat beside Valor's crate in the empty garage bay while the van made its way back down to the road.

  Wasting no time, Valor pulled one of the crates to the edge of the concrete slab and faced it into the sun. I handed him the crowbar then got out of his way to let him open the crates. Just before he got the top panel off the first wooden box, I tugged my hat from my head and shook my hair out. These two new gargoyles could see me as I was. I didn't want them thinking maybe they liked me then changing their minds after they found out I had red hair. Yeah, there was a lot of it. And yeah, it was really red. And they could just deal with it right from the start, this time.

  Valor eyed me for a long moment then tore his gaze from my hair and went back to work on the crate. Once he'd removed the upper and lower panel from one side of the box, he ripped apart the bubble wrap and revealed a winged gargoyle with long dreadlocks. He wasn't quite as good-looking as Valor but he was still way ahead of Josh Saxon.

  "Havoc," Valor said in a warm tone as he looked at his brother.

  The sun spilled across the lifeless gray stone and the statue took on a glow of color that spread across his skin, into his pale green eyes and up to the roots of his dark bronze hair. With a wolfish grin, Havoc kicked away the plastic wrap clinging to his legs and stepped out of the wooden box. He pulled his brother into a bone-cracking bear hug. "You look good," Havoc muttered in a voice rough with emotion.

  Valor shoved him away and growled, "You wouldn't be so affectionate if you knew I've waited eight hundred years to flatten you."

  "What for?" Havoc asked. His teeth flashed in a wide grin.

  "For getting us stuck behind that wall." Then Valor grabbed Havoc as if he couldn't help himself and gave his brother another fierce hug.

  "I can't believe you guys would risk turning yourselves to stone in a country where the sun only shines three days a year," I offered cynically.

  Havoc turned his head and found me in the shadows. Like his brother, he wore a blue tattoo on his neck, though the design was different. He also wore a couple of gold rings on his fingers, inset with colorful flat stones. As I watched, his wings folded down into a black vest that wrapped across his chest and back. His eyes glinted with interest as his gaze dropped to my feet then moved back up to my face again. "Where'd you find the pretty little human?"

  Valor flicked his gaze at me. His mouth pulled into a one-sided smile as he reached up with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "Underneath a big red box."

  Appalled that he would share this information, I shot him a dirty look. Then I introduced myself to his brother as I stepped forward and stuck out my hand. "I'm MacKenzie."

  Havoc grasped my forearm just below my elbow then took my hand and showed me how I should do the same. "Jolly awesome to meet you," he said.

  I laughed at the weird combination of new and old language. I was pretty sure I was gonna like Havoc.

  "Where are we?" he asked, and rubbed his hands together as if he was glad to be back among the living. "America?"

  "Color
ado," I confirmed.

  He stepped over to the open garage doors and looked up at the clear blue skies. "It's glorious here," he proclaimed enthusiastically. "Much nicer than back home."

  Having spent some time in England, I had to agree. Colorado weather is hard to beat. Even in winter, it's sunny and dry. As far as I'm concerned, Colorado winters are better than British summers.

  "Let's get this other crate open," Valor suggested, getting right back to business. "I'm hoping Dare is in there."

  "Okay," Havoc replied. He caught my eye and sent me a private grin. "But if it's Victor, we leave him in the dark. Agreed?"

  Valor's smile was wry. "Agreed."

  "What's wrong with Victor?" I questioned. I wondered if their cousin was a jerk or something.

  "Nothing," Havoc grunted. He used the claw foot hammer on one side of the crate while Valor worked on the other side with the crowbar. "That's the problem."

  I probably looked puzzled because I was.

  Valor caught my expression and explained. "Victor is really…" His voice trailed away as he searched for the right word.

  "Good looking," Havoc supplied. "Attractive."

  I almost blurted, "And you're not?" It was hard to imagine anything or anyone better looking than the two guys working in front of me.

  "So when he's around, all the girls flock to him," Havoc continued.

  "All the gargoyle girls?" I asked with a sudden twinge of jealousy. I assumed gargoyle females would be as beautiful as the males. If that were true and if there were any left, Valor and Havoc would obviously prefer them to ordinary human girls like me.

  Both Valor and Havoc immediately stopped what they were doing and shared a startled look. "No," Havoc eventually said. "Human girls."

  "There are no female gargoyles," Valor added.

  Okaaay. That sounded impossible to me. The way I understood nature, there couldn't be any males unless there were females. "You mean there are no females left now," I clarified.

  "Not now," Havoc grunted. "Nor then."

  This didn't exactly clear things up. Maybe Havoc and Valor were trying to tell me that all of the female gargoyles had died out during their lifetime.

  "Anyhow, Victor is golden," Havoc said, returning to the original topic of conversation.

  "What do you mean by golden?" I asked.

  "I can't explain," he answered as he tugged the wooden panel away from the crate. "You'll just have to see for yourself when he gets here."

  Together, the two brothers removed the bottom panel in nothing flat. While Havoc stood back, Valor ripped open the plastic bubble wrap that hid the statue inside.

  "Reason," Valor said as he stepped away and let the sun shine into the open crate. Although he and Havoc were obviously disappointed the crate didn't hold their brother, they mustered up some smiles for the new gargoyle. This one had thick, straight blond hair that reached the bottom of his ears. His eyes were a deep cornflower blue that I'd normally consider attractive but looked very ordinary compared to the intense color of Valor's eyes. The gargoyle stepped from the crate and grasped first Havoc's arm then Valor's. My eyes immediately searched for the tattoo on his neck, which was—again—different from the symbols his cousins wore.

  "Did you see Dare?" Valor asked anxiously.

  "He was standing between Victor and Defiance when I went into the crate," Reason told him. "Don't worry. He'll catch up with us eventually."

  Valor lifted his chin slightly. "I hope so," he said without smiling.

  The new gargoyle tilted his head toward me. "What's with the human?" he grunted.

  Valor turned his gaze on me. "Her name's MacKenzie Campbell."

  "She knows about us," Reason growled, and eyed me darkly.

  "I'm sorry," Valor apologized though his tone was prickly. "I didn't have much choice in the matter."

  Reason gave his cousin a critical look. "Then I assume you'll take full responsibility for her."

 
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