Labyrinth: Acropolis Series Book II (10 page)

"I don't do commitment," I say finally.

Dayton harrumphs. "That's bullshit, and you
know it."

I stand, pulling a blue hooded sweatshirt off
of the end of the bed before moving to the door.

"Just let it go, Day."

Dayton stands, and I can feel the daggers
she's shooting at my back with her eyes.

"You want to know what I think," she says,
and I brace a hand against the door's frame with a groan. It
doesn't matter if I care what she thinks, I'm going to hear it
anyway.

"I think you worry too much about good and
evil. You refuse to believe there is something that lies between.
There is only good and only evil for you, Conor. No matter how
often you are faced with the hybrid's difficulties, you refuse to
believe there is a place where lines are blurred. You are not the
only gargoyle who walked away, and you've never been the type to
walk through life deaf and blind, Con. Everything you see is not
always what it seems. Let go," Dayton continues unfazed.

My jaw tightens and I look over my shoulder
at her.

"I'm a Reinhardt."

The name is enough. My father was one of the
greatest gargoyles to ever exist. He fought for good. He died for
good. Will and I have not only tarnished the name, we've destroyed
it. But I have a new mission now, and I'll see it through wrong or
not. I brought the hybrids this far, and I will make sure they are
safe before I walk away. I'm a man of my word.

"I'm a Reinhardt," I repeat wearily, my voice
no more than a whisper.

Dayton shrugs, her green eyes on mine.

"You're also a man."

I push away from the door, pulling on
the sweatshirt as I walk away from Dayton. I am a man, but I am
also a gargoyle. I will not deny the feelings I have for Emma, and
I don't regret rescuing her from the Acropolis. But I
am
a Reinhardt and when all of this
is over, I will face the race that bore me, and I will sit in
judgment.

***

A few minutes later, I am walking past
Alessandro's small stairwell office when I see the light under the
door. I pause, the sound of pacing within audible. The door is
cracked, and I lean forward, my gaze falling on Alessandro's
hunched form. His dark hair is mussed, his navy buttoned-up shirt
untucked.

He stops near a simple, unpadded chair and
sits heavily, his head in his hands. His office is cluttered, books
open on the floor with gaping holes where they once sat in
disorganized bookshelves. Sheets of paper hang off the edge of the
desk while more paper lays crumpled around a dented aluminum waste
basket. A small desk lamp, shaded in dark green glass, throws only
dim light into the room, causing more shadows than light.

Shadows . . . shadows on the wall. I know all
about shadows. Shadows don't sleep, they beckon, turning dancing
figures into haunting shapes that twist the soul.

I look away from the dark silhouettes and
push open the door. Alessandro looks up only long enough to glance
over his shoulder. When he sees me, he sighs and returns his head
to his hands.

"I've lost what's right over the years,"
Alessandro says, his voice forlorn. "The more time you spend in
this world, this Godforsaken world of good, evil, and half-breeds,
the lines start getting thinner until they barely exist
anymore."

I shut the door behind me, the click loud in
the silent room. Alessandro doesn't flinch. I stay near the door,
my eyes on the S.O.S leader's back.

"I see a lot of me in you, you know,"
Alessandro continues. "So young, so idealistic. I wish I could tell
you that age makes you wiser, but it doesn't. In this world, it
just makes things more confusing."

I lean against the door.

"You were with Enepsigos once," I say.
Alessandro doesn't move, doesn't confirm or deny my statement.

"In the debriefing held when I was assigned
to Emma, I was told her father was killed. They don't know about
you, do they?"

Alessandro finally looks up, his eyes
haunted.

"No. It wouldn't have been safe. A man was
killed. He was working for me, and he was assigned to protect Emma
until I could find a suitable placement for her. When the gargoyles
found her, they assumed the man was her father, and I let them
believe it."

I stare at him, realization dawning.

"You're the reason she wasn't murdered as a
baby."

Alessandro laughs, the sound harsh."It took
every bit of diplomacy I had to convince Gibson to spare her. It
helped that some of the gargoyles, like Delilah, seemed taken with
the infant."

I push away from the door.

"How did you meet Enepsigos?" I ask.

It is a personal question, one I have no
right to know. Alessandro exhales.

"I wasn't the leader of the S.O.S then.
I was simply a warrior sent on a mission to retrieve a piece of
Solomon's throne, an old artifact we are fighting to restore. I was
in a fight with a group of Demons and injured. Enepsigos was still
fighting to separate her kingdom from Lucifer's at the time, and
she found me. I think she wanted to leave me, but I didn't know
then she was a Demon, and I begged her to stay, to help me. She
looked like an Angel. Her compassion
felt
like an Angel. She healed me. It's how our
association began. Even after I discovered she was a Demon, I saw
her. She was a Demon fighting to separate herself from Hell. It was
enough to make the former S.O.S. leader want to help her. The more
warriors we have on our side, the better, and Enepsigos was
powerful. Incredibly powerful."

Alessandro grew quiet, and I let his words
sink in. A picture builds in my mind, a young Alessandro and the
beautiful Enepsigos.

"You fell in love with her," I say, my voice
low.

Alessandro laughs, the sound bittersweet.

"If I'm being honest, I'm still in love with
her."

I want to kneel next to him, place a
hand on his shoulder . . .
something
, but I don't.

"Have you tried to talk to Emma," I say
instead.

Alessandro shakes his head.

"I've watched her, but I've kept my distance.
She has a lot of her mother in her, but she's a good person. She's
strong. To be part human and to harbor the type of emotional powers
her mother has, she'd have to be strong or she would have ended up
in an institution, alone and insane."

I eye Alessandro warily. "She was in pretty
bad shape when the gargoyles sent me to rescue her. She was dealing
with emotions she thought were hers. Why not tell her before this?
Why let Enepsigos do what she's doing now? She's sending the
hybrids into a death trap!"

My voice has risen and Alessandro winces, his
rugged face looking older than I've ever seen it.

"You accuse me in your head. I know you
do. But the hybrids need this fight, Conor. They need this fight
for freedom. Demons don't work the same way we do. The hybrids must
prove their strength. Until they do, they will always be in danger.
Even my protection would be useless. If they survive, there will be
time to get to know her then.
Then
, she will be safe."

I shake my head. "And you would wait to see
if she dies before you get to know her? You'd really hold yourself
that aloof?"

Alessandro's eyes meet mine. "And in that you
see my dilemma, Boy. No choice is the right one. Reveal myself now,
and it gives Emma a weakness in the field, something the other
Demons could use against her. Wait, and I miss my chance to tell
her I've always cared about her."

Alessandro stoops once more, but I have no
words to comfort him. The shadows in the room crowd in around us,
lingering.

Water, I love. In water, I float and swim. I
revel in its cool feel the same way I do stone. Shadows, however,
are suffocating, In shadows, I drown.

Silently, I exit the room, closing the door
behind me, leaving Alessandro with his thoughts. My eyes land on
the stained glass windows on the door just beyond the stairwell.
The full moon shines through it, the white light changed by the
glass before fragmenting on the floor below. I step toward it, my
eyes on the moon. Emma.

Chapter 13

Emma

I stand at the door of the cottage, clutching
a mug of black coffee, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and
stare up at the moon. It's full tonight, and the pull from my
mother's kingdom is too much for me to sleep. Wind pulls at my
hair, the chill seeping past the soft yellow quilt to my red tee
and stonewashed jeans. I shiver mainly out of habit. My skin's
temperature is too warm to be truly cold, but old habits are
comfortable, safe.

I sigh and lean my head back against the open
door's frame. It has been a long day, spent learning as much as we
could about Hell from Marcas and Luther. The Craig brothers are an
interesting pair; hybrids that have lived decades, centuries even,
under the hands of Lucifer and their own mother, Lilith. But it
wasn't until Marcas met Dayton that he realized the need for
change. He went to war both for Dayton and the hybrids and secured
a kingdom for us. It's obvious Luther isn't as loyal to the cause
as his brother, but he is loyal to Marcas, and I can respect
that.

Ace snorts from the side of the yard, and I
feel the presence that startles the lesser Demon without looking
up.

"Stalking me, Gargoyle?" I ask, the sides of
my lips twitching slightly.

There's a laugh from the roof.

"Just enjoying the moon, same as you," Conor
answers.

I look up then. Conor is sitting precariously
on the edge of the cottage's steep roof, his head covered by a blue
hood. I salute him with my mug.

"I'm not going to turn all rogue Demon on
you, if that's what you're afraid of. I've learned to ignore the
moon's call. Mostly, anyway."

Conor pulls his hood back, his blond hair
pale in the moonlight, his eyes moving briefly to the moon before
standing. I expect him to fly down, and I nearly drop the mug of
coffee I'm holding when he suddenly jumps, landing in front of me,
his feet flat on the ground. My hands sting only briefly where the
liquid in my cup has sloshed onto my palms. Conor grins.

"Like a cat, gargoyles always land on their
feet."

I don't reward him with a response. I just
hold out my mug-filled hands instead, the reddish marks on my skin
obvious but not painful. I've learned recently heat doesn't affect
hybrids the same way it does humans. Conor shrugs before reaching
for my mug, removing it quickly.

"Thanks. I wasn't expecting the hot drink
offer, but . . ."

I snatch it back before he can say anything
further. The Reinhardt charm dial is turned to high tonight, and I
don't even try to fight the smile I feel coming. My gaze moves back
to the moon. We are quiet a moment. I don't ask him why he's come
here. In a way, I know why. The full moon and I don't have a good
history, but I've survived full moons without him now, and my mind
is quieter. Other things bother me more.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to
go back to the way it was before," I say quickly to fill the
awkward silence.

Conor leans back against the door's frame.
It's late, sometime past midnight, and Marcas is supposed to lead
the hybrids to the Labyrinth's entrance at dawn.

"You mean the whole 'ignorance is bliss'
mentality?" Conor asks.

I look at him. His eyes are on the moon.

"You're thinking I think too much, aren't
you?" I say.

Conor's lips twitch, but he fights the
smile.

"It's not a bad thing, thinking too much.
Ignorance would never be an option for someone as practical as you.
You need to know too much. You hate being in the dark, and you ask
too many damned questions."

He says the words lightly, his voice tinged
with humor. He is right. I'd rather know the monsters coming at me
in the dark than be surprised by them.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask him. He
doesn't expect the question, and his gaze moves to mine, his
expression even. "And don't try and play dumb with me, Conor. Why
are you going with us?"

Conor's expression becomes shuttered, his
eyes lowering. "I won't leave the hybrids. Not now. Not until all
of you have a safe place to go. Marcas' kingdom will give you
that."

It is a generic answer meant to appease
me.

"Before you met me, you never would have
considered leading the hybrids out of the Acropolis, much less go
to Hell for us."

I say the words softly, and my eyes move to
the ground. The grass is thin near the door, and I can see brown
soil, the dirt damp from falling dew. I kick at it with my tennis
shoes. The words sound conceited. I shouldn't assume he's doing any
of this because of me. Being forthright is something I normally
don't do, but I've changed. I know it. I feel it.

"You're right. I wouldn't have led the
hybrids if it weren't for you. Until I was assigned to you, I never
let myself get close enough to the hybrids to see them as human. Or
part human anyway," Conor replies. I don't look up.

"And Lyre?" I ask.

Lyre and Conor had been close once. If not
emotionally, then at least intimately. Conor snorts.

"Em, using Lyre as an example of hybrid
decency does
not
win your race
points. Even when I thought she was human, she still had a bad
attitude."

I want to laugh at that. Lyre will always be
a sore spot for us. There are times I find it hard to reconcile
Conor's past with her. Especially when I face her hatred day in and
day out. And yet, there is good in Lyre, a loneliness that far
surpasses anything I have ever felt.