Descended from Dragons: an Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 1) (4 page)

"Hurt like a son of a bitch." Celestina grimaced and rubbed her temples. "They work maybe
too
well. They bounced me back into the street like I'd got worked by a monster wave. I had to go to Orlaton for help."

"Whoa." I looked at her with new respect. "He doesn't like to leave the store."

"I know, but what was my alternative? I was worried. Anyway, he didn't leave his shop, big surprise. He told me how to break down your wards and then slammed the door in my face."

I didn't like that. "I'll need to talk to him about how he managed that."

"Good idea," Celestina agreed. "Anyway, I reached through the broken window and unlocked the door. You were unconscious on the floor." She paused. "I didn't see your familiar anywhere…"

"No, Lucky is out when I'm out." Same with sleeping, which made Lucky useless as a guard dog. Or make that guard dragon. "You didn't, er, happen to see anything moving around in the shop, did you?"

She gave me a wry look before tucking a long braid of dark hair beneath her headscarf. "Something like a scary stone monster?" She turned and yelled, "Lev!"

Vasclev, her on-again-off-again wolf shifter boyfriend, trotted through the bead curtain and up to the edge of the bed. He sat down, tongue lolling happily as his blue eyes focused intently on Celestina.

Lev was a beautiful wolf, with midnight black fur and those pale blue eyes, but the man loved being in the form too much. He needed to go to Shapeshifters Anonymous and break his addiction to transformation. Celestina, in a rare display of frustration, had one day confided in me that she had problems convincing Lev to shift back into human form long enough for them to have a meaningful relationship. She felt like she was dating a dog.

I was pretty sure Lev was the reason Celestina's palmistry and tarot reading shop also sold beef jerky.

"Lev, tell Anne about the stone monster."

The wolf whined and danced around a bit. He chuffed the way dogs do and then let out a frustrated-sounding howl. Celestina wasn't moved. She crossed her bangle covered arms and waited.

With a sigh—I'd had no idea wolves could sigh—Lev transformed, limbs elongating, hair dissolving. It was a disconcerting sight, kind of like watching your friend undergoing drastic, time lapse plastic surgery. I had to look away a couple of times until he was done. And when he was done—

"Whoa!" I flung a hand up to cover my eyes.

"Ah, yeah, sorry 'bout that," Celestina said, though she sounded suspiciously as though she were trying not to laugh. "Here, Lev. Cover yourself so you don't burn Anne's virgin eyes."

"Hardly virgin," I muttered, but I was glad to hear the sound of rustling fabric. I tentatively lowered my hand and found Lev standing there naked but for Celestina's multi-colored headscarf wrapped loosely—disturbingly loosely—around his waist.

The Serbian wolf shifter still had much of the wolf about his face—a feral, scruffy quality that reminded me of Wolverine from the X-men. But that body…no complaints there.

Which brought me back to my last encounter with an attractive guy.

"So the gargoyle?" I prompted.

"I came when Celestina called," Lev said with a wink for his girlfriend, "and when I got here there was thing flying all around, attacking her. Not bird or bat. Some strong thing. I not see thing like this before. Very strange. Nightmare thing."

Celestina waved her hand for him to get on with it. He just grinned, which made her roll her eyes but I saw her smile a little, too. I guess when you were wolf-like and half-naked you could get away with a lot.

"I wanted to chase it. The wolf did," Lev clarified, "but Celestina said be careful so I only bite it. Then I hold it down and Celestina put it in a box."

"It's in a box?" That seemed too simple, like I must have been an idiot not to have done as much myself. Instead, I had a broken front window and useless wards.

I slid off the bed. "I need to see this thing."

Lev and Celestina had draped one of her sheets over my window to cover it, which made Moonlight resemble a head shop thanks to the quasi hippie tie dye job on the sheet. But I appreciated the thought and said as much.

The box trapping the gargoyle was easy enough to spot. It was the box for a home dehydrator kit, the kind you used to make jerky in your kitchen. My friends had stacked a variety of flat objects on top, such as a set of gold cutlery in an ornate wooden box and two sets of poker chips in their briefcase-like carrying cases.

"I thought about asking Orlaton for some heavy books to weigh it down but he was in a bad mood by then," Celestina confessed.

"It's fine." I took the cases off one by one, summoning Lucky as I did so.

"Well, that's interesting," Celestina murmured.

I looked up. She and Lev were gaping at the sight of Lucky flying lazily around the room. Oops. I'd forgotten that I rarely used my magick in front of other people. Only Melanie had seen Lucky. One day early in our friendship I'd been delirious with fever and had accidentally called him up while she was taking care of me. She'd spilled chicken noodle soup all over my bed in her surprise. I hadn't ever intended to show her, but once the cat was out of the bag I stopped hiding it from her.

"He's harmless," I told them, trying not to sound defensive.

"Not many sorcerers use big predators for familiars," Celestina murmured, her dark eyes watching me. "When you told me you had one, I assumed it was a bird."

I tensed, but I kept my tone casual. "Well, it wasn't really a choice. Dragon familiars run in my family."

There. It was out. I was dangerous business.

"Better dragon than chicken," Lev said with a shrug.

Celestina flashed a white grin. "Too true."

I wanted to hug them for being so understanding.

Celestina waved at the box. "Well, go on. Let's deal with this."

I called Lucky to hover over my shoulder as I prepared to lift the box. "This thing is pretty vicious, so be ready," I warned my friends. "I'm going on three. One—two—three!" I yanked the box away.

The gargoyle sat there, licking one of its forepaws. It looked up, startled, its topaz eyes wide, but did nothing more threatening than flutter its leathery wings.

"Well, that's different," I said, sitting back on my heels. "It was like a rabid animal earlier."

"It's still dangerous," Celestina said. "Something doesn't have all that muscle for no reason."

I agreed with her. The gargoyle was the size of a small gorilla and just as muscular. I had Lucky at the ready in case the creature pulled a Jekyll and Hyde on us.

"It smells different," Lev said. He leaned closer and sniffed the air. "Not same."

Help me, sorceress.

I looked to my friends. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," Lev said. "It came from monster. I tell you, it is different."

I'm no monster. Not all of me.

"There's something fishy going on here." I jumped to my feet. "You guys okay with watching it for a second?"

Lev shifted into his wolf and chuffed his agreement. Celestina snatched up her discarded headscarf and rewrapped it around her braids. "Don't take too long. I can read the future, not do karate."

I dashed over to the other side of the shop and peered over the shelves. Jeez, I sold a lot of crap. Why did I have all this inventory? Hockey pads—who played hockey in Vegas?—a lifejacket, some kind of knitting machine—

"Gotcha!" I reached past a tabletop slot machine and pulled out a heavy hand mirror with a peculiar, dull glass.

Back in front of the gargoyle, I aimed the mirror at the thing. Its topaz gaze fixed on the glass curiously.

"You're going to make it feel bad by showing it how ugly it is?" Celestina asked mildly.

"This is a Chinese magick mirror," I explained. "It's made of bronze and when you tilt it just right you can see what's hidden behind glamours. The trick is getting the angle right…there!"

But my triumph trailed off into bewilderment as I stared at the image reflected in the magick mirror.

"My, my, my," Celestina said. "I did not expect that."

Me neither.

I called Melanie because I just had to. I figured once she saw what was up she'd forgive me for dragging her out of bed so early in the morning.

To my surprise, she arrived at Moonlight with her makeup on, her hair straightened and her numerous accessories (steampunk sure required a lot of add-ons) all in place.

"What?" she said when she saw my expression as she jumped out of her car. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get up. Now the day can be even longer! It's great!"

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I asked her, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

"Christian," she replied with a dirty little smirk. "Oh, and that statue. I had a dream that it was chasing me! Monkeys are pretty fast, but boy, this thing was right on my ass the whole time!"

"You never told me you're a shapeshifter
and
you can read the future."

"Say what?"

I pulled her into the shop—"Holy cow, what happened to your window, Anne?"—and handed her the Chinese mirror. "Point it at the gargoyle," I said, steering her toward it. "You may have to fiddle with the angle."

It remained sitting on the floor, uncovered, and if I didn't already know it was alive I would have thought it was a statue. It didn't move at all as Melanie kneeled before it.

"This isn't a prank, is it?" she asked, looking up at me. "This isn't a trick mirror that's going to show me myself all gory or zombified, is it? Because I'll totally scream, Anne, and I might pee in my pants, too."

The bead curtains parted and Celestina and Lev came out. Lev had gone back to Celestina's and put on some clothes he had left there. Jeans and a tight T-shirt tamed the wolf a bit, but he was still someone you'd give a wide berth to if you passed him on the sidewalk.

"It's not a trick, little monkey," Celestina said, shaking her head in amusement. "Use the mirror."

"Everybody staring at me is making me nervous." But Melanie obediently raised the mirror and followed my instructions on how to aim it at the gargoyle. As soon as she saw what we wanted her to see, she gasped and dropped the mirror. "Oh, my god!"

"Hey, don't break it," I said, rushing to pick up the mirror and check that it was okay. It was a piece of merchandise someone had pawned to my uncle years ago. It felt like a connection to him even though I had never had a reason to use it before.

Melanie grabbed my arm. "That isn't a statue!"

"No." I grinned.

"It's a shifter!"

"It's a gargoyle," I corrected. "A genuine, old fashioned gargoyle."

I couldn't help holding my breath as I aimed the mirror at it again, wondering if I would see something different this time. It was like looking through a hole in a wall. On the other side of it sat a guy with his arms wrapped around his knees. He was probably my age, mid- to late twenties, dressed in jeans and a dark hoodie over a dark shirt. His hair was dark, too, and sort of wavy, spilling over his forehead and into his dark eyes. The look of utter hopelessness on his face drew me to him with an intensity I couldn't explain.

"I think he's trapped in there," I said softly. I didn't know if the magick mirror worked both ways and he could see me, too, but I imagined that he was looking back at me with those soulful dark eyes. It made my cheeks grow warm, but I couldn't look away.

I'm trapped in this form. And I'm not alone.

The hopelessness on his face gave way to a flash of anger. And fear.

Melanie scooted back. "Nuh, uh. I don't like the sound of that." She glanced at the broken window, still covered with Celestina's tie dye monstrosity. "I'm guessing he did that? Or rather, whoever's in there with him? Oh, god what is it?"

It's a demon.

The announcement was as welcome as a demon would have been. A wave of dread washed over me that was so powerful it made me sway on my feet. I surreptitiously wiped away the sweat that had beaded instantly on my forehead.

I had a thing about demons. A history with them. I would have preferred a hundred jerk ex-boyfriends to the demonic baggage that I carried.

"Oh, hell, no!" Melanie jumped to her feet. "Anne, we don't want anything to do with this. Tell me you agree!"

I lowered the mirror so I wouldn't have to see the expression on Hopeless' face as we discussed the matter. I couldn't believe my own words as I said, "What's the alternative? Leave the poor guy in there with it?"

"It attacked you." Celestina motioned at the window. "Whether it did that on its own or because the demon forced it to, this is like a possession. The demon needs be expelled. Who has the power to do that?"

"None of us do!" Melanie grabbed my arm. "Seriously, this is super dangerous and we don't know for sure that that guy in there is completely good, either. He's just telling us there's a demon in there, but what if he's lying? What if it's
him
who's the monster? He's a gargoyle. What does that even mean? This could be a total disaster!"

I looked back at Hopeless. "What can a gargoyle do? You're not a shifter, right?"

My ancestors were created centuries ago by a curse. By day I turn to stone. By night I am free to assume either my creature form or my human form. The choice is mine. I can switch easily between the two. Usually. Not now. Now I'm trapped. With this demon.

"Gargoyles are no good," Celestina said. Her expression, as they say, spoke volumes. "Even if you manage to expel the demon…" She leaned close to me and murmured, "Anne, you have to be careful. They're malicious and sneaky. No one's ever befriended a gargoyle and for good reason."

In the mirror, I caught a flicker of something on Hopeless' face. He'd heard her. His expression reached into my chest and tugged. It had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with injustice.

"We're helping him," I stated.

Celestina just shook her head, but my best friend was vocal in her disapproval.

"Anne!"

"He's not a threat, Melanie. The gargoyle was going for the jugular earlier. But when I was unconscious and completely helpless, he didn't hurt me."

That made her pause as I'd known it would. Melanie could really get going when she was worked up, but she wasn't unreasonable.

In a calming voice I said to my friends, "I do think there are two souls in there. However—" I added when Celestina opened her mouth to argue, "—I'm not an expert on demon possessions. We need someone who is to confirm it."

"Oh, no," Melanie groaned. "I know where this is going."

Even Celestina didn't look too enthused. "He won't appreciate being bothered twice in twenty-four hours."

"He is not good man," Lev added with a grim expression.

They were all correct, of course. When it came to Orlaton, asking him for help would be like asking him to French kiss me during a zombie apocalypse which had been caused by oral herpes. I was amazed he'd helped Celestina get past my wards. That wasn't like him at all.

But the guy knew things. Lots of things. And I wasn't intimidated by him. Even if most people believed I should be.

"What the hell," I said cheerfully. "Let's pay him a visit."

~~~~~

The sign above the door said only 'Tomes'. I was fairly certain Orlaton would have forgone a sign and drawn a seal in blood on the sidewalk if he could have gotten away with it.

Tomes, like Moonlight Pawn, was situated inside a residence, albeit a much bigger one. Rumor said Orlaton had had the original house gutted and rebuilt with secret passageways, trap doors, dungeons and every other goofball thing you'd find in a haunted house. I didn't know if the rumor was merely the fallout from Orlaton's reputation, but the shop sure didn't look like your friendly neighborhood Barnes & Noble. Greek revival, complete with a dome and a pair of columns out front didn't belong in a neighborhood like mine.

Vegas had a couple of weird houses like this, where people went Liberace with the outdoor bronze statues and fake columns, but Tomes was the only one that made you worry it might become the next Amityville Horror.

According to a second metal sign which hung beside the doorbell, the bookseller allowed entrance by appointment only. But as Celestina had proved, the elusive Orlaton could be summoned when the mood struck. I hoped the mood was striking him in the ass right now. We needed his help.

Celestina and Lev had returned to her shop at daybreak since she was still open for business and she felt it her duty to be available to any astrologically distressed clients. Only Melanie was with me as I repeatedly pressed the doorbell.

I had half-expected to hear the sound of an organ playing or maybe a theatrical scream each time I pressed the button, but the doorbell sounded normal and pleasant. I was kind of disappointed by that.

"You're sure this thing won't suddenly come to life and claw my face off?" Melanie asked. She held the gargoyle statue away from her body as though it were a squirming eel. "I happen to like my face, Anne. People say it's cute and I kinda agree with them."

"Not sure of anything, really," I replied. "But ever since the sun came up it's been stone like that. I think you're okay for now."

"Oh, good. As long as you
think
so." Melanie stuck her tongue out at me.

It was good timing, because a slot in the door slid open just like in a speakeasy. A pair of large, deep-set blue eyes that were shielded behind wire-rimmed glasses stared at Melanie's extended tongue. The eyes slowly blinked. "Go away."

"Hey, Orlaton, we need your help," I said quickly before he could slide the slot closed. "It's something serious."

"Very serious," Melanie chimed in grimly. She held up the statue. "You will never believe what's in this thing. Seriously!"

Orlaton glanced at the gargoyle and appeared unimpressed. "You don't have an appointment."

"Celestina didn't have one either and you helped her," I said.

Hooded lids slid over the eyes. "She threatened to have her wolf defecate on my porch. I had no choice."

"So if I threatened to do the same, would you let me in?" I grinned, but I wasn't yet sure if I was only teasing. A demon wasn't something I could just put on the back burner and deal with later. I was in a bind.

"If you weren't so dangerous I would make an enemy of you, Miss Moody."

"Uh, thanks?" I looked at Melanie, who shrugged.

I heard a sigh from the other side of the door. "Go away, please. I have clients in the building."

"This is way more important than selling some books, Orlaton." I stepped closer and lowered my voice, because you never knew what magickal eavesdroppers might be around. We'd all heard stories of the Oddsmakers employing pixies when they wanted the dirt on someone.

"It involves a demon," I told him.

"Not interested."

"What?" I gaped at him. "But this is right up your alley."

"You think it is. But what you believe to be a demon is most likely something far less interesting, much like you."

"Hey, now." I glared at the pair of eyeballs. "You said it yourself: I'm dangerous."

I was talking big with nothing behind it, of course. What was I going to do? Have Lucky set fire to his house? Ram down his front door? He had me by the girl balls and he knew it.

"There is a demon in that thing," I said before he could call my bluff. I pointed at the gargoyle statue. "Either you help us get rid of it, or I'm going to attempt a half-assed exorcism right here on your porch. It won't be pretty."

There, that got a twitch out of his left eye. I didn't let my satisfaction show because a guy like Orlaton needed to believe he always had the upper hand.

"What do you want?" he asked finally.

"Take a look at this thing and help us get rid of the demon inside it."

"I will examine it. I promise nothing more. However, you'll have to wait while my other business concludes. Your timing couldn't have been worse, Miss Moody."

"Yeah? Well next time I'll tell any demons who want to bug me to make sure they clear their schedule with you first."

"Anne, don't push him," Melanie said, cringing, but she perked up instantly at the sound of numerous locks opening on the other side of the door. "Oh, cool!"

Again, to my disappointment, the door didn't open with the creaking and groaning of hinges; it simply swung open soundlessly. In the doorway stood Orlaton, which for people who hadn't seen him before, might also have been a disappointment.

He was seventeen. He deliberately talked like he was a crusty old professor and I'm sure he got a kick out of fooling people over the phone, but the truth was that he wasn't yet a legal adult. He was my height, which was not tall for a guy, and extremely skinny. His head seemed too big for his body, and his pale, slicked back hair made him appear bald under certain lights. Oversized, watery blue eyes and a small mouth also contributed to the impression he was a living bobblehead doll.

Today, or maybe every day, he wore jeans and a maroon grandpa cardigan. And of course he wore a bowtie. I mean, it was standard for such a cultivated look, right? His was red and blue plaid. It wasn't crooked.