Wonderland Ch. 03

Pinching the bridge of my nose briefly, I let out a tiny sigh and tried to think past the growing headache.

I know that when I got back home I would have to tell Talon about Connor, but I was worried about what he would do. He would want to track Connor down, I'm sure, and that meant going out into the human world. He could get caught, or worse, caged for experimentation. What if Connor was an enemy clan? Or worse, what if he was part of the clan responsible for the Gargoyles downfall? I was torn between wanting to keep Connor a secret for a bit longer and wanting to rush home right now and spout the good news. Like Talon, I had been worried that he really was the last one of his kind. I couldn't imagine how lonely and alienated that title could be, and I hated the thought of him penned up at the pool house.

Deepening my resolve, I kicked my more sensitive side in the butt and promised myself I would tell Talon about Connor as soon as I saw him. I had no right to keep him from his people, and if Connor could lead Talon to those like him, I wasn't going to prevent that reunion.

"My next class is A&P," Connor told me when we stopped at my locker, interrupting my thoughts. "What direction is that?"

I pointed down the hall to my right. "Room 122. His name is Mr. Archer and he's a total asshole. Pay attention in class or else you'll end up with an extra assignment worth 25% of your grade."

"Duly noted. So, when's lunch?" he asked, rubbing his stomach. The gesture reminded me of Talon and for a split second I felt a pang of loneliness.

Shaking off the abnormality of that, I checked my internal clock. "At noon. You still have three classes to go, bud," I told him as I retrieved my British Literature book from the back of my cluttered locker.

Connor muttered a swear word under his breath and hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder.

The first bell rang and I gave him a pat on his elbow, the most comfortable distance I could reach. "Good luck, Sullivan."

"Thanks," he snorted. "If I don't see you next period, I'll sit with you at lunch."

Oh hell. LUNCH.

I cringed and nodded, making a quick escape before he could press conversation further. My stomach gurgled at the reminder of the Exlax incident, but I firmly pushed it out of my mind the best I could.

When I finally made it to British Literature, I felt like I was on the verge of an absolute breakdown. Nerves clammed up my throat and slicked my palms with sweat. Thankful for the absence of my usual horror of a teacher, I pretended to do the assigned work on the board while silently fretting over lunch. I kept up the internal badgering throughout my free period as well, unable to focus on anything other than making sure I didn't go IBS in my pants. When the bell tolled for lunch, I felt like I was walking to my own doom.

Connor was already seated by the time I got there, and his eyes locked onto me as soon as I stepped out of line. The assholes who had dumped Exlax into my food yesterday were watching me too, snickering to one another as I passed their table.

I sat down across from Connor, my back ramrod straight as I unloaded my tray. I clenched my jaw tightly when one of the assholes asked how my stomach was feeling.

"Want to tell me what that's all about?" Connor asked quietly as he slowly peeled off the plastic wrapper around his chicken salad sandwich, obvious distaste in his eyes. My guess about Gargoyles in general was that they hated dairy, and I don't mean the cows. Because as he went through his meal, I noticed most of it was meat and his drink of choice was basic bottled water. He set aside the sandwich and I traded him my meaty meal for his, which he took gratefully.

"No," I answered finally when he gave me a prolonged stare.

"They don't like you."

"Not many do."

He frowned around the chicken piece he was eating. "Why?"

I shrugged one shoulder as I stirred the applesauce in front of me, one of Connor's other cast-offs. Apparently squished apple was also another taboo point in a Gargoyle's diet. "I never really bothered to ask."

"I would." He put down the chicken bone, having inhaled it within the three seconds I had broken eye contact with him. "Especially if they're making my life miserable."

"The thing is Connor; they weren't making my life miserable until yesterday."

Whoops.

"And what happened yesterday?"

I felt my face grow hot. "Nothing," I mumbled.

Connor reached out and rested his large, warm palm over my hand. "Tempest."

I met his dark eyes and saw the question there. "They just played a nasty prank, that's all. It was childish and slightly cruel, but I'm over it," I lied.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice a low tumble now. I flinched at how deep within his chest it had come from. That must mean the Gargoyle was angry.

"Not the way you're thinking," I responded, moving my hand out from under his so I could eat.

"I have a physical education period at the end of the day," Connor said suddenly as he steadily demolished his entire meal. I watched in slight amusement as he finished off a packed lunch he must've brought in from home. Even I could recognize a well-made meatloaf, and that this was made especially for him – not a single slice was missing.

"Yea, so do I," I told him as he offered me a bite. I shook it off, trying not to smile.

"I overheard the coaches mentioning they want me to play football, even though I have not a clue how to play the game." He shook his wavy hair out of his eyes and sent me the first real smile I had seen from him all day. "If those dicks are on the field, I could flatten them for you. It won't really be you getting justice, but I'd be happy to maul..." He tried again. "Maim..." He chuckled darkly and tucked back his hair when it got in his eyes again. "I'll make them wish they hadn't played a prank. We Gargoyles protect our own."

I blinked in surprise. "But you don't even know me," I said quietly as a group of Goth girls passed our table, eying Connor with obvious like. "For all you know I could be keeping him in a cage and poking him with cow prods."

Connor chuckled at the rather gory imagery I painted. "I doubt it. You have a good spirit. And I can trust you."

"How do you know?"

Connor leaned forward, his dark eyes probing. "Because you're protecting him, whoever he is, from me. That takes bravery and a certain recklessness that even I can admire. You put yourself in between me and him, even though you know I could probably break your neck with two fingers. That takes balls that not even a lot of Gargoyles can dangle."

I snorted at his crude humor and rolled my eyes. "Point taken."

"Good," he told me, straightening up to look at his now empty tray. I chuckled when his stomach grumbled audibly and he sighed before pushing the plastic away. "Now, please tell me your next three classes involve reading, computers or a foreign language. If I don't have someone to talk to then I have to listen to children discussing how tall I am."

"I have French," I offered, chuckling as I turned back to my meal.

"French?" he demanded, crinkling his nose.

"Well what do you have?" I demanded back, tossing my balled up napkin at him.

"Spanish," he replied matter-of-factly. "A language you actually need in this country."

I pointed a warning finger at him and he rolled his eyes. "My boyfriend is the only one who can get away with the finger, Tempest, and that's because he lets me fuck him on an occasional basis. Put it away, it will do you no good."

I couldn't help it; I laughed. I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks and I nearly fell over onto the bench seat because I couldn't hold myself up. After I was done, I wiped away the wetness and chuckled, meeting his confused expression.

"I'm sorry, but imagining a big macho guy like you being brought down by the 'finger' is just too much," I giggled, trying to control myself.

Connor shot me a sly grin just as the bell for next period sounded. "Playtime over," he sighed, giving me a soft squeeze around the shoulders as we went to dump our trash.

"Do you ride the bus home?" he asked me as we walked out into the hall. I nodded. "Good. Save me a seat," he told me as he took a left, towards the stairs to the second floor. I nodded again and waved at him with a smile, unable to believe the turn of events in my life in just twenty-four hours.

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, and when I left with the rest of the girls last period for P.E., I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Connor towering over the rest of the guys in the huddle on the football field. None of the football gear quite fit him, so his pads were a little small and his uniform and leggings were short, all of it looking ridiculous on his broad frame. Like Talon, he was toned and built like a warrior. Being well over six feet also didn't help address the size issue, as his height just wasn't common.

Finally, P.E. finished, and I abandoned those girls who did sports for sake of a brief shower and the ride home.

Connor was almost late getting to the bus, weariness evident on his face. He dropped into the seat beside me and mimicked snoring on top of my shoulder. I laughed and brushed him off as the bus pulled from the curb.

"Long day?" I joked.

"Exhausting," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't see how you can do this every day," he said softly, so not to be overheard.

"You don't normally go to school?" I asked quietly, a little shocked.

He shook his head. "That's not my job."

I balked at that. "What is your job?" I asked haltingly, watching him warily.

"To find the others," he replied gently, not surprised at my unease. "I'm sure your friend knows something about that?"

I nodded slowly, agreeing to that. Talon was entirely focused on that goal alone. "What do you do to the ones you find?" I asked, feeling like I had a right to know something like that.

Connor looked a little appalled. "What are you suggesting?" he grumbled, his eyes flickering angrily. "That I eat them?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Connor let out a huff of air, shaking his head. "We bring them into the fold," he said after a while as the bus bounced its way up towards Bella Lane and the other upper class homes. "We get their background, if they know it, and place them with those of their kind of...lifestyle." I caught onto what he meant and nodded to let him know I understood. "It's to keep them safe and out of the Elders hair," he said quietly in my ear. "Let your friend know that the Elders want to see him," Connor continued as the bus pulled to my stop. "He'll smell me on you and he'll ask questions. Tell him you met me and that I want to meet him – me and the Elders want to. Got that?"

I nodded and took my bag from his hands, walking down the bus aisle at a faster pace than normal. Something in Connor's voice had tipped me off, and as I approached the house, I couldn't help but feel all the pent up worry from today finally seep through.

Would Talon still be there? Would he be okay? How will he react when I tell him about Connor? And why was I so anxious to see him...just merely to see him?

Lengthening my strides, I hurried down the drive, hearing the bus pull away from the curb. When I opened the front door of the house, I was surprised to see the shades drawn and the lights out, leaving the rooms in almost complete darkness.

"T-Talon?" I called out, unease creeping through my voice as I shut the door and entered the kitchen, where I had left him last.

There was a soft chuckle to my left and the bag on my shoulder was set on the kitchen counter. A callused hand tugged me around and I was pulled into a strong grey-blue body I knew well.

Holding on to Talon tightly around his middle, I buried my face into his stomach and shivered in slight fear as I forced the words out of my throat.

"Talon, there's something you need to know..."

+++

Connor watched Tempest as she trotted quickly down the lane to her gargantuan home that reeked of the same cloying smell that had clung to her clothes. With his senses, he could pick up movement from deep within the house, the object in question coming to the darkened windows to watch the human female as she approached.

Connor could not make out the other Gargoyle's features, but he had all he needed to present to the Elders.

This Gargoyle was an Ancient, hopefully old enough to remember the Great Battle. The Elders would be pleased with this discovery, and like him, curious to know how an Ancient ended up in the presence of a female, human nonetheless.

Gargoyles were known for their need to roost with their own kind, and whilst the female did not smell like she had been mated, the faint aroma of the Ancient Gargoyle's seed on her clothes told Connor that the male had certainly considered it.

The school bus pulled away from the mansions on Bella Lane, cutting off his view of Tempest as she rushed through the front doors. His senses strained to hear her voice over the rumbling engine, smiling a bit as she called out to the other Gargoyle like she had missed the Ancient somehow, like they were dear friends.

Or lovers.

That thought sent the smile sliding from Connor's face. He quickly turned to look through the back window of the bus, hoping he could catch a glimpse of the Gargoyle.

Connor found the Ancient in the kitchen window, and all coherent thoughts escaped his brain as he watched the oldest of the Gargoyle bloodlines cling to the human girl in an embrace that suggested what his logical mind could not accept.

Lovers.

Life-mates.

The bus turned down the hill, taking the lovers out of his sight. He turned back into his seat, a tight feeling in his chest loosening slightly.

While he did not agree to the union, he could not see how anyone, even the Elders, could deny an Ancient his complete soul.

But...why did his spiritual other lie in the delicate, pale body of a weak-blooded human? An Ancient Gargoyle, one of the strongest of their kind, mating with an eighteen-year-old human girl? As the human saying goes, it was like comparing apples to oranges.

Much later, Connor exited the bus at the last stop of the ride, his long legs taking him down the street that on one side bordered the city park and on the other the rougher neighborhood of Wonderland, confined to a few city blocks. He waited until the bus rumbled past before he darted into the park, breaking through the shrubbery and crossing abandoned trails to the small gypsy-like camp his troupe had set up deep within the forest.

He could smell bacon long before he reached the camp and the smell just urged him faster. When he arrived, five heads bobbed up to look at the intruder, relaxing when they saw it was him. They were gathered around a small fire where a wild boar was currently roasting on a homemade pit.

"I found one," he said without preamble, dropping his pack beside his tent. He approached the boar and turned the meat, his stomach grumbling with anticipation of his meal. What he had eaten at lunch had been nothing compared to his normal appetite. Connor had even grown faint during his afternoon classes with his lack of meal.

"Found one what?" asked the next eldest in the group, the one who called himself Damien. The youngest, Elijah, truly the child amongst them, was the one to speak up.

"You found a Gargoyle?" he asked pensively, his blue eyes wide in his small chubby face.

Connor turned to them, a smile stretching his lips despite his attempts to squash it.

"An Ancient," he murmured, trying to contain his excitement. "If I'm not mistaken, he is of the clan Tze'hoc."

Elijah's eyes grew wider and in his surprise, he lost his human form. Damien, the only Drul in their small pack, rolled his eyes in amusement.

"And you let him go?" Damien snorted, turning his earthy eyes to Connor, a stark contrast to the black clothes and pale skin and hair. Even though the Drul had the ability to change his appearance at will, he had chosen to keep his unnatural eyes that reflected his connection to the earth. This ability was the only reason why the Drul had not been killed upon his discovery: he was capable of enchanting others with the same gift, giving Connor and the group the ability to blend in as humans so they could search without being caught.

Reclined back against a tree stump in all black, the Drul looked a bit worse for wear. They all were, for it had been days since they'd benefitted from human comforts, willingly undergoing excursions for the Elders in search of the olden kind. Unless Connor could draw the Ancient in soon, they would once more have to return to the Elders empty handed.

"Yes, for I did not see him directly until now," Connor retorted, his voice taking on the edge that had made him leader of their small team in the first place. It was the voice that the Drul adored the most, and his hazel eyes gleamed amber with inner magic as Connor sat down on the ground beside him.

"He is under the protection of a human," he told the astonished group. They leaned forward then, desperate for news. "Her name is Tempest Cohen. She lives in the white house at the top of those hills," here he pointed eastward, "and I believe she wishes to protect him from us."

"How would you know that?" Seth asked carefully, his fiery red hair nearly blending in with the flames in front of him.

"She was wary of me when I told her what I was."

"She would only be wary if she cared for him," said Quincy, her natural pale blue hair tumbling forward into her equally blue eyes. She shifted her heavy jacket over her shoulders, moving closer to the fire for warmth. "Perhaps they are mated?" she asked him.

Connor shook his head. "She is still untouched. But she does have appeal to him...his scent lingers on her, almost blood-deep."

Ursula, the mute Gargoyle, sat up then, her soft brown eyes inquiring as she tugged on the end of her braid nervously. Her waist-length silver hair was a product of one of Quincy's bloodline, an Aar'an, and a now extinguished Quan tribe. She was a foul blood, and had been beaten severely upon her discovery by her captor, who had also been Quan. Quan's were notorious for their status amongst the Gargoyles as prostitutes. Any offspring they begat were either sold as slaves, or became prostitutes under the houses they were born. The Elders had stumbled upon Ursula after she had single-handedly wiped out the house she had been forced to serve. As a result, she had been brought into their kinder servitude and soon discovered she had long ago stopped speaking. Now, she spoke only through hand signals and projected thoughts.

"If he is in her blood, that must mean he bit her. The Ancients did not adapt as we do by changing forms and mingling with the human race. They took the blood of their captors or asked for it willingly. She must've not been willing."

The group chuckled at that.

Connor was not sure how much to impart upon the group, but at Ursula's pleading gaze, he gave in.

"I believe he has intentions with mating her," he said haltingly. "When I caught a glimpse of him this afternoon, he was embracing her...like a loved one." His eyes went to Damien and the Drul flushed, his head bending forward so his pale hair could cover the pooling of blood beneath his white skin. Connor turned his eyes away from the male, shifting uncomfortably at the evidence of his want that was growing swiftly in his jeans.

Elijah, the only true virgin among them, tilted his head with a queer look on his face.

"Embraced?" he repeated slowly, trying to feel out the word in this context. "He was hugging her?" he asked, confused beyond his wits at what Connor was implying.

The group nodded in unison.

Elijah made a face. "I don't see what's wrong with that. Maybe he was sad."