Valor (A Greystone Novel) by Taylor Longford
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, I left for school "sans guards". The fact that none of the gargoyles insisted on going with me convinced me they trusted me to keep their secret. I would have stopped by the library after school and picked up some books so we could get started on reading lessons, but it was Halloween so I hurried straight home.
When I opened the mudroom door, I could smell food cooking. Havoc was in the kitchen with my mother's striped apron pulled over his head and tied around his waist. He looked utterly adorable in a lean, dreadlocky sort of way. He'd already started dinner—something he called dead bird stew. At first I freaked, until he told me he'd found the bird in the freezer above the refrigerator.
It was a chicken. And the stew was really good. Way better than it sounds.
Not only that, Defiance had discovered the vacuum cleaner and he thought it was genius. He'd spent the whole day sweeping the house from stem to stern. My mother wasn't going to recognize the place when she got home. And if I let her think I'd done all the work, she was going to wonder what was wrong with me. She'd probably haul me off to a doctor, or at least a psychoanalyst. I decided I'd have to tell her that Mim and Whitney had given me a hand with the housecleaning.
And after an early dinner, I took Dare out for his second driving lesson. We even ventured off the gravel roads onto the county highway. I figured if we happened to cross paths with a policeman, he wouldn't pull us over. Dare was at least two years older than me and he looked it. So as long as he followed the rules of the road, we weren't likely to draw attention.
Before it got dark outside, Whitney brought Mim over in her mother's van. Mim stepped through the front door with an armload of costumes and the guys jumped up to give her a hand. I was so relieved they didn't ignore her like Dare had. Quite the opposite, the guys seemed to be really taken with her. In fact, except for Defiance, they all seemed more interested in Mim than they were in Whitney, who is certified gorgeous.
Unlike Mim and me, Whit has even had a few boyfriends. She could have had a lot more of them but she's picky when it comes to guys. Some people think she's stuck up. She's not, really. But she is sort of regal…in a good way. Her father's a doctor and her family isn't short of money so her clothes are always nice. And she has long, pale blond hair. In the summer, she works as a lifeguard at a mountain country club so she has this lovely golden tan that lasts through the entire winter.
She was gonna look so great in the gold brocade.
We dressed and did our makeup in my bedroom. Mim had even made some fake moles for us to wear. I stuck one of the little dark patches at the corner of my upper lip. Mim wore hers at the side of her cheekbone while Whitney positioned hers below her mouth.
Whitney tilted her head and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. "So, why did women wear fake moles back in the day?"
"They were considered sexy," I explained as I reached for a tube of lipstick that was darker than anything I'd normally wear. "They were called beauty spots."
Whit stuck an extra mole on her nose and we got to giggling and I ended up with a lot more lipstick on my mouth than I needed. My sides were aching before Whitney finally peeled the mole from her nose and tossed it at the wastebasket in the corner of my room. Still laughing, we tumbled down the stairs to join the guys.
"What do you think?" I asked as we twirled into the living room trailing yards of gold brocade, blue satin and cheap black silk.
I could tell the gargoyles were gobsmacked. Each one who wasn't already standing rose to his feet and stared at us in our costumes. I have to admit we looked pretty awesome. Mim had sewn those bodices to within an inch of our lives and they fit. I don't know about Mim and Whitney, but mine was so tight I could hardly breathe.
Victor was the first to recover his poise. "You…look amazing," he murmured as he took Mim's hand and touched his lips to her fingers.
Mim blushed like crazy but the pink cheeks looked good with the blue satin.
I swung my gaze toward Valor to get his reaction and noticed Dare standing in the background. His expression was a mixture of anger and dark despair. I wondered why he was so upset. It didn't occur to me that he might not like Victor paying so much attention to Mim. After all, he'd had plenty of chances to express his own interest in her.
"What about you?" I asked the guys. "Aren't you gonna get dressed?"
The gargoyles shared a bewildered look. "We are dressed," Havoc said, and glanced down at his jeans.
"Aren't you going to wear your costumes?" I asked, emphasizing the last word.
"Costumes?" Defiance questioned without removing his eyes from Whitney's face.
I gave Valor a pointed look.
"I think MacKenzie means our Celtic warrior costumes," he said, finally catching on.
"Ah," Victor said. "Right."
And as the gargoyles herded upstairs to change into their wool shorts, Mim turned around and sent me a wide-eyed look. While she fanned her face and tried to catch her breath, Whitney's quiet, regal gaze followed the gargoyles up the stairs.
"What do you think?" I whispered.
Whitney just tilted her chin in a cool nod that seemed to say, "They'll do".
Mim placed her hands on her hips. "You were lying when you said the others were better looking than Dare," she declared.
"Keep your voice down," I warned her from the side of my mouth, pretty sure the gargoyles could hear our conversation.
The words were barely out of my mouth before Havoc appeared at the top of the stairs. He hitched the side of his butt on the handrail and slid down the staircase. When he reached the bottom, he jumped to the floor then held his arms wide as he turned in a circle. "What do you think?" he asked, mimicking my earlier words with a grin.
"Awesome," Whitney said approvingly.
"Jolly awesome," I agreed.
Havoc sidled up next to me. "I never realized how itchy these breeches are," he complained beneath his breath as the rest of the guys followed him downstairs.
I have to admit the gargoyles looked more comfortable—and more handsome—in their jeans. Dare was the last to appear at the bottom of the stairs, his loose white jerkin tucked into his wool shorts, a sulky scowl etched into his features.
I picked up my big plastic jar and we all traipsed out the front door. Whitney's van seats nine people so we were able to fit everyone in; we just had to decide who was going to sit where. I couldn't help but notice that Defiance didn't wait around for someone else to decide they wanted to ride shotgun. He slipped into the front passenger seat before anyone else could claim it.
Mim and I weren't quite sure how to manage the massive volume of our skirts. We'd had enough trouble getting through the front door. Now we had to climb into the van and find room for all the fabric. I hung back, waiting to see what Mim would do, planning to copy her or at least learn from her mistakes. But Victor took command of the situation.
He threw Mim's skirt over his arm and handed her up into the first seat then settled down beside her with the blue satin spread over his knees like he'd been managing skirts for women all his life. Before I could adequately express my awe, Valor guided me up into the seat behind Victor and Mim with the same skill, leaving the back seat to Reason, Havoc and Dare.
Mim turned her head and gave me a brief, shocked look as if to say, "Can you believe what just happened?"
I just smiled back at her. There was no doubt about it. We'd landed in thirteenth century heaven.
We got to Boulder a little after nine o'clock. It was dark by then and the streetlights cast a soft glow on the Pearl Street Mall. The brick-paved street was packed with diehard Halloweeners ranging in age from newborns to senior citizens. Some of the costumes were pretty amazing; Boulder goes all out when it comes to Halloween.
Defiance and Whitney led the way as our group strolled along behind a bunch of Jedi Knights. Victor followed with Mim, Reason and Havoc. Valor and I were next in line while Dare brooded along at the rear.
Mim wa
As we made our way past the shops that line the mall, a woman traveling against the flow of traffic threaded her way between the groups of people. She cackled and crowed as she swerved through the slow-moving column. The long skirt of her tattered gown trailed behind her like a ragged black banner.
"What was she supposed to be?" Valor asked as he turned his head to watch the dark-haired woman sweep behind us.
"A witch," I told him.
His eyebrows tilted upward as if he was surprised. "Not a very convincing getup."
"No?"
He shook his head. "No. To begin with, the hair's all wrong."
"Not red enough?"
"Not nearly red enough," he confirmed as he gazed at the hair I'd piled on top of my head. "Not pretty enough, either."
I felt a blush creep into my cheeks and lowered my gaze to the ground. "Are witches always pretty?"
"No," he admitted. "Some of them are almost as ugly as harpies."
"Is there anything here as ugly as a harpy?" I asked. I caught sight of a tall grim reaper on the other side of the mall. He was wearing one of those weird glow-in-the-dark "scream" masks. A plastic baby doll was impaled on the end of his scythe. It was pretty gross and I nudged a little closer to Valor.
Valor cast his gaze over the crowd. "Some of them are pretty close," he admitted.
It occurred to me that one of the monsters could walk around freely on Halloween night and never be recognized for what she was. "You're not worried about running into a real harpy tonight, are you?"
"Not really."
"Would you be able to sense a harpy's presence in this crowd?" I asked, wondering what would happen if the harpy was wearing a mask or some sort of costume that covered her completely.
"Probably not," he answered. "I'd only be able to sense an evil presence and there are a few of those in every crowd."
"Really?" I asked. Generally, I thought most people were good. I glanced at the family behind me with their three small children dressed as turtles. The kids were adorable. "Even here?"
"Even here, there are people like your neighbor," he affirmed.
Creeped out by the idea, I looked across the mall again and noticed a group of girls from my high school. They were working their way in the opposite direction but when they caught sight of us, they stopped dead in their tracks.
"Uh-oh," I muttered as I watched the girls from the corner of my eye. They peeled away from the traffic going the other way.
"What is it?" Valor asked sharply as his shoulders squared up like he was preparing for attack.
"Incoming," I warned him.
Alexa Thompson breezed up with two of her friends. All of them were dressed as vampires, assuming vampires wear that much makeup. They planted themselves directly in our path so we had to stop if we didn't want to run over them. The costumed mass of humanity flowed around us like a river of bright color and black splashes. "Hey MacKenzie, Whitney," Alexa bubbled without mentioning Mim. She tossed her well-behaved auburn hair behind her shoulders. "Great costumes."
"Thanks," I murmured and shifted the plastic jar on my hip. "You guys look great too."
"What are you supposed to be?"
"Headless heroines," I explained without going into details. I figured Alexa wasn't really interested in my costume or me. Not that she's mean or anything like that. I actually have her in some of my sophomore classes, even though she's a senior. And she's copied my homework once or twice.
She eyed the guys expectantly so I introduced them and then explained, "These are friends of my cousins. I met them on my last trip to England."
"I'm Alexa," she announced breathlessly without commenting on their unusual names. Maybe she didn't even notice. "Do you guys have last names?"
There was a slight delay before Dare answered, "Greystone."
"All of you?" giggled Alexa.
"All of us," Valor confirmed. "We're related. Brothers and cousins."
"Cousins," she gushed. "I get it."
Valor turned an uncertain frown on me as if he hoped I could interpret.
I just shrugged.
"I saw you at school the other day," she said, singling out Dare. "I really love what you've done to your hair."
Dare fingered the white ends of his hair while a brief flash of pain touched his eyes. "I didn't do this to my hair," he said in a low voice.
"You mean it's natural?" she squealed. "That is so cool."
Talk about awkward. As Dare moved backward a step, I quickly changed the subject. "Have you seen anyone else from school tonight?"
"Just some loser freshmen," she answered.
I winced. I knew quite a few freshmen and I didn't consider any of them losers.
"So, MacKenzie," Alexa bubbled on, speaking to me but eying Victor like she wanted to get him alone in a dark closet. "There's a party tonight at Carly's house, starting at midnight. Her parents are out of town. Why don't you guys come?"
"Um," I stalled. I don't dislike Alexa. She's a harmless giggler. She's also pretty popular with the guys at school. She has what Whitney calls infinite cleavage and she never fails to show it off. In fact, Alexa has more shirts with missing buttons than anyone I know. But she'd never invited us to any parties before and I couldn't help but think there was a wee bit of hypocrisy involved in her sudden offer of friendship. "We might do that," I answered noncommittally. "Are you gonna invite Josh Saxon, too?"
"Is he here?" she exclaimed, and turned her head to check the crowd.
I pointed to the other side of the mall. "I saw him earlier. He was heading that way."
"Seriously?" she squealed and bounded away with her friends while Valor slanted a sly grin at me.
"What?" I asked, and tried to look innocent, like I hadn't just lied to get rid of my classmate.
"Nothing," he said with another grin that showed off his white teeth.***
"Do you want to go to the party Alexa told us about?" I spoke up so the whole pack could hear. To be honest, I hated to ask. I didn't want to go and I didn't want to share the guys with the rest of the girls in Pine Grove. But I kinda assumed the answer would be yes. Because Alexa is definitely boy bait and I had several unattached gargoyles on my hands.
The guys shared a quick look. "I think we'll give it a pass," Havoc answered for the pack.
Okay, I was kinda surprised. Like I said, I consider Alexa to be pretty harmless. But maybe the gargoyles could sense something I didn't know about. Maybe they noticed how she ignored Mim. Or maybe it was because of her awkward comment about Dare's hair.
We turned at the far end of the mall and headed back in the direction we'd come. About half way down the other side, we ran into a bit of a bottleneck. A rough crowd of bikers had taken over the center of the mall. They were older, dressed in motorcycle leathers and were shoving each other around while beer splashed from the bottles they gripped in their fists. Although there was no real danger, Valor put his arm around my waist and pulled me against his side.
His grip on my waist was strong, warm and possessive. And I've never been more grateful for rowdy, beer-drinking, motorcycle-riding guys in my lifetime. If I'd known their addresses, I'd probably have sent them all thank you notes. Up ahead, I noticed Defiance and Havoc flank Whitney on either side while Reason and Victor did the same with Mim.
One of the bikers took a shove in the chest and staggered backwards toward us. Reason stepped toward him and met him before he could fall into our path. When the leather-clad oldster stumbled into Reason, the gargoyle dusted him off, turned him around and gave him a friendly push back toward his friends. With a few fluid steps, Dare moved in to take Reason's place at Mim's side.
I was impressed with the way the guys worked together to make sure Whitney, Mim and I were safe. It reminded me of the way they'd operated the other night, coopera
It was probably midnight by the time we returned to the van parked several blocks away. Victor claimed the back seat with Havoc and Reason, leaving Dare no choice but to sit with Mim. I couldn't help but notice the quiet undercurrent of maneuvering going on amongst the gargoyles. There was no doubt in my mind Victor had given up his seat so that Dare could sit with Mim. But why had he done that after showing so much interest in Mim? Was Dare interested in Mim, too? If so, how did Victor know? And why would he care?
Dare was actually talking to Mim about her costume as Valor handed me up into the car. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic but I was encouraged by the look in Dare's eyes as he gazed down at my best friend. I curled my arms around the jar on my lap and eavesdropped as they discussed Ann Boleyn—or Nan Bullen, as Dare called the unfortunate wife of Henry the VIII.
Just after Valor slid the door closed and Whitney started the engine, some goon in a zombie mask threw himself at the side of the van. His plastic mask slid along the window with a thin screeching sound as he beat the side of the car with his fists and howled like he was being murdered. Valor's barbs shot into place before he realized it was just a kid fooling around. The sharp tips of his talons scraped across my arm. When I looked down, I saw four thin tears on the long sleeve of my gown.
I was surprised at the modern curse Valor used as his barbs eased back beneath his hackles.
"What's wrong?" I asked. I rubbed my palm over the rips in the black silk.
He yanked my hand away and turned my arm so he could look at it. His hand was shaking as he thumbed the edges of the ripped fabric apart.
"What's wrong?" I repeated. I figured he was worried about scratching me with his poisonous barbs but I couldn't see any marks on my skin.
With his gaze locked on my eyes, Valor shook his head grimly and I realized he couldn't explain while Mim and Whitney were in the car.
Valor didn't say anything more until we were back in my bedroom at the end of the night. I sat on the edge of my bed and smoothed my hands over my black silk skirt while he paced the floor. I eyed his fierce expression. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head with a violent jerk and said in a low voice, "I almost scratched you with my barbs."
"That idiot in the mask startled you," I argued, immediately jumping to his defense.
The look on Valor's face was a study in anguish as he stopped pacing and dropped into the chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. "I could have killed you, Kenz."
"No," I insisted as I got to my feet and joined him on the wide chair. I took his hand. "You didn't and you wouldn't. You just grazed me. It wasn't that close."
"It was damn close," he rasped. "Too close."
"You could never hurt me," I insisted quietly as I stroked my fingers across his thick knuckles.
As if he needed an emotional release, Valor reached for my face with both hands. He lifted my chin with his fist and his fingers traveled along my jawline before threading into the hair behind my ear. He smoothed his thumb across my cheek as he tilted his head and lowered his mouth against mine. His lips rubbed against my mouth like rough silk, sending my inner circuitry haywire and leaving me utterly breathless. I wrapped my hands around his strong wrists and hung on.
"Oh no," he suddenly breathed, and pulled his mouth away from me before the kiss got properly started.
Everything inside my body was humming and whirring from the sweet shock of my first kiss. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. If I had to compare it to something, I'd say it was like a tempting sample of something indescribably irresistible. Once I'd had a taste, I wanted more. "What is it?" I murmured woozily.
He leaned away from me. "You'd better go back to your bed, MacKenzie."
"But, what—"
"Now, MacKenzie."
My hands were still wrapped around his wrists. "Valor, what's wrong?"
He stood suddenly, tearing his wrists from my grip. "Dammit," he cursed as he stepped away from the chair. As I watched, blue liquid dripped down his fingers onto the carpeted floor.
"What is it?" I gasped. "What's wrong?"
His tortured gaze met mine. "Can you get me a towel or something?"
I raced for the bathroom down the hall and returned with a dark blue towel, which he pressed against his knuckles. "Valor," I panted. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry," he muttered, and scowled at the stains on the carpet. "I've made a mess."
"What is it?" I shrieked in a whisper.
"It's instinct," he answered soberly. He fell back in the chair as if he was suddenly tired. "I knew it would happen," he murmured. "I just didn't think it would happen this soon."
"Valor, what are you talking about?"
"It's instinct," he repeated, his expression troubled as he watched me. "I'm driven by instinct to mark you."
"Mark me?"
He nodded. "With my rune."
"I don't understand," I said shakily.
He looked at me a long moment while emotion swirled in the intense color of his eyes. "I'm attracted to you," he said softly.
"That…doesn't sound all bad," I whispered.
He shook his head. "It's not all bad. But it's not all good, either. If I try to mark you, my venom will kill you. I can fight it, but…"
"But what?"
"I'm not safe, Kenz. You're not safe with me."