Chapter Twenty-Seven

Blake swam toward consciousness, unsure of where he was, or who, for that matter. Percival Blake was dead—he had been for two hundred and sixty-one years, yet Blake woke with the smell of moldering earth in his nostrils and a heaviness in his limbs that made him fear he might suffer the same end as his murderous ancestor.

He dragged his heavy eyelids open, gasping for breath as if he’d been buried alive. Panting, he lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling and trying to piece together what he’d just seen.

In all the years he’d been forced to live Percival’s life, he’d never experienced the man’s death before. Did that mean the connection had finally been severed? Was Percival’s soul free because the curse had been broken, or was he doomed to these visions of a madman’s existence even in his sleep?

He sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the woman sleeping next to him. Mel was the first person he’d permitted to share his bed in ten years. The only person he’d considered making room for in his complicated life.

He reached for her but stopped short of touching her bare shoulder to rouse her when his bleary gaze focused on the clock beside the bed. The glowing numbers read 5:34. Sunrise would happen any moment.

He jumped up and stumbled in the dark, searching for his pants. Dear God, if he’d forgotten—if he hadn’t woken up, he might have crushed her or at the very least destroyed the bed.

His heart thudded unevenly in his heaving chest. He had to get dressed quickly. Turning to stone was bad enough; he refused to spend the day as a naked gargoyle.

Bypassing his discarded briefs, he jammed one leg then the other into his jeans. Instinct sent him out of the bedroom and down the stairs, heading for his secret lair where he could hide his shame.

She’d understand, he told himself when his bare feet hit the landing. She had to realize he couldn’t risk the transformation while he lay next to her.

Her voice stopped him at the foot of the stairs, and he dared to glance up at her shadowy form, wrapped in a sheet. She looked like a goddess, demure but so sensual she took his breath away. He’d have given the world to be able to climb back up the stairs and take her in his arms.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Blake. Don’t leave me.” She gathered the sheet in her hands and started down the stairs.

He held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. Please, Mel. If I change, I can’t bear for you to see it again.”

Her expression hardened. Determination narrowed her eyes as she made her way down the last few steps.

“Come with me.” She took his hand, held it fast even when he tried to twist out of her grasp. She tugged him toward the kitchen, to the door that led to the backyard.

When she pushed the screen door open, flooding the kitchen with icy morning air, he reared back. “Are you nuts? What am I going to do, stand in the yard all day while the neighbors gawk?”

“The neighbors might gawk if they’re up at this hour, but who cares? Come on outside with me now, Blake. Show me you love me.”

“Uh, angel, I thought I did that last night…twice in fact.” He would have smiled at the memory of it, but she scrambled around behind him and shoved. The woven mat on the back porch tickled his bare feet. The bricks of the back stairs were cold and sharp, but he let her lead him down into the dewy grass.

“I believe in you, Blake. And I believe in Calypso. I won’t have it any other way.”

“Lass…”

She pointed at the sky above the old, scrubby apple tree that dominated his backyard. A sprinkling of stars paled while they watched, the pinpricks of light winking out one by one.

Next to him, Melodie shivered, and he put his arm around her. If he turned to stone now, she’d be trapped against his granite body all day, wearing nothing but a sheet. She didn’t seem the least bit concerned, though.

Her gaze was fixed on the sky which, as they watched, turned from indigo to lavender.

Blake rubbed his eyes and blinked. Birds chirped in the high branches. Shades of gray brightened into the muted colors of early dawn.

Dawn.

He held his breath and stared down at his hands, expecting the change to come over him. If not stone, then at least the rough flesh of his gargoyle form…fangs, a tail? He didn’t feel any different.

“Blake, it’s sunrise, and you’re still you.” Her voice trembled. “You’re still you.”

No. He couldn’t believe it. After all this time.

Dragging Melodie by the hand, he raced around the side of the house and out onto the sidewalk. Here, facing east, the sky was even lighter—a nameless color somewhere between pink and yellow and blue but none of those and all of them at once. A car turned onto the street up at the corner, and Blake resisted the instinctive urge to flee from prying eyes. Maybe the sunlight had to touch him. Maybe in a few moments, he would turn, and whoever drove the car would see a gargoyle standing at the curb.

But it didn’t happen. The car slowed as it passed his house, and out of the passenger window, a teenage boy flung the morning paper at his feet.

The car sped up and drove on, and beside him, Melodie laughed.

“Sorry, lover, but I don’t think you’re going to make front-page news. You’re just a man today, not a monster.”

He met her gaze and broke into a grin so wide it hurt. “She did it. She broke the curse.”

“I told you. Have a little faith.” Melodie slipped her fingers into his and tugged him toward the front steps. “Now can we go back to bed?”

He didn’t miss the suggestive tone in her voice, and he wanted to. Lord knew he wanted to…but there’d be time for that later. There’d be time for everything later.

“Sorry, lass. I’m not going inside today.”

“Umm…the neighbors might talk if we hang out on the curb all day watching traffic go by.”

“Hmm. You’re right.” He scooped her up and swung her around, ecstatic and a little bit hard. “Let’s go in the back. There’s a shady little spot under the tree where no one will be able to see us.”

“Blake!” she shrieked when he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her off.

“Let ’em gawk, lass. Let ’em gawk.”

Melodie was still picking twigs out of her hair three hours later, but she didn’t care. She’d finally gotten Blake to come inside with the promise of a shared bubble bath, which she’d sent him upstairs to prepare.

She listened for the sound of running water while she dialed Calypso’s number. A familiar voice answered after the fifth ring, but it wasn’t the witch.

“Helena? Is that you?”

“Hmm…Melodie?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m with Blake, and he’s human. It worked. The spell worked. Can I talk to Calypso? How’s she doing?”

Helena’s long silence had her pacing the kitchen in a panic. “Helena?”

“She’s gone, Melodie.”

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone? She’s not…?”

“She left. I don’t know when. I dozed off on the couch, and when I got up to check on her, the bed was empty. It looks like she packed a few things. There are hangars all over the floor, and her toothbrush is gone.”

Mel squinted at the sunny front window and gripped the phone tighter. “Why would she leave? She was so weak last night. Will she be all right?”

“I think she had to leave. The Domaré aren’t going to be happy about what she did. She was the custodian of an immense amount of power, and she threw it away…most of it, anyway.”

“She’s going to be in trouble?”

“Definitely.”

“Can you do anything to help her? What about Angelo and the Witches’ Council?”

“I don’t know about the witches. I’m not one, so I have no idea how to contact the Council. And Angelo is more part of the problem than the solution. He won’t be happy at all about what she did.”

“So she’s running away from him?” A sense of desolation gripped Mel, and she sank into one of Blake’s kitchen chairs. “She’s in danger because she helped us.”

“That was a given from the beginning. Don’t act surprised.”

Mel bristled a little at Helena’s tone. The spell had been Calypso’s choice, after all. If she hadn’t wanted to do it, she could have disappeared the night before and left Blake to fend for himself. “We’ll find her,” she said after she’d regained her temper. “We’ll help her.”

“There’s not much two humans can do for her. Unless you want to end up dealing with another curse or a horde of vengeful demons, I’d suggest you stay out of it. Remember, Calypso might have made an unpopular decision, but she’s still the Domaré queen at the moment, and she’s entitled to some respect.”

“She still might need some help. Will you help us find her?”

Helena laughed, and the sound grated on Melodie’s nerves. “No. She’s my cousin, but she’s not my friend. I have to side with the will of the clans on this. If it comes down to a choice, I’m with them.”

“I guess demon blood isn’t thicker than water.” Mel wished she’d used Blake’s regular phone to call, because then she could slam down the receiver to end the frustrating conversation. Instead, all she could do was jam her finger on the disconnect button and toss her cell phone across the table.

“Damn demons.”

Blake appeared in the doorway then, still shirtless and so gorgeous Mel felt light-headed just looking at him.

Her body responded to his appreciative gaze immediately, but her mind put the brakes on any repeat of their performance under the apple tree.

“What is it?”

“Calypso ran away.” She relayed everything Helena had told her and let him wrap her in a reassuring hug. “We owe her something, don’t we? We can’t let the Domaré punish her for helping us.”

“We may not have a choice. It’s her world, her family. One thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s best not to get involved with demon politics.”

“She was my friend. She still is. I have to help her.”

Blake leaned his forehead against hers. “Then we will. Come upstairs and get cleaned up with me, and then we’ll start looking for her.”

“Where do we begin?”

Blake shrugged and guided her out of the kitchen. “With a demon hunter, of course.”

“We’ll check in with you every six hours,” Melodie told Palmer two days later when he pulled up outside of Gleason’s with his Jeep loaded to the roll bars with luggage and equipment.

“She will. I won’t,” Blake added with a rueful smile. It had taken him this long to convince Melodie that the best thing the two of them could do for Calypso was to let a professional make the foray into demon territory to search for her.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have a professional. The All-American would have to do, the upside of the arrangement being that Palmer would be out of town and not making any more sketches of Melodie.

Blake reached into the Jeep and offered his hand. Van Houten shook it and met his gaze head-on. “Be careful. I don’t fancy coming to your rescue again.”

“My rescue? My rescue? Who saved your ass from the Fremlings again? Oh yeah, that was me.”

“No more arguing, you two.” Melodie opened the passenger door and leaned inside. She planted a smacking kiss on Palmer’s cheek, and Blake stood back, studying the sidewalk and pretending it didn’t bother him to see the woman he loved putting her lips on another man. “Remember, if you need us, just call. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Ever since I met you, sweetie, that’s the only thing I’ve been doing.” Palmer laughed, but Blake noticed he did look a little pinched around the eyes. This was a tall order. Tracking a Domaré queen, even in a weakened state, was a lot harder than skewering Gogmars.

“You have that paper I gave you, right?”

Palmer patted his breast pocket. “Right here. I promise to open it only in a dire emergency.”

“Good. Now you’d better get going. Take care.” Mel kissed her fingertips and waved as Palmer revved his engine for effect and pulled away from the curb.

With his arms wrapped around Melodie, Blake watched the demon hunter drive away. “What was that about? Some kind of spell?”

Melodie grinned. “Sort of. I gave him a secret incantation that’s guaranteed to get Calypso’s attention when she’s being stubborn.”

“Really? And I thought you didn’t know anything about witchcraft.”

“Oh…every girl has an ace or two up her sleeve.”

“Have you got any spells that are guaranteed to get my attention?”

She laughed and whispered one in his ear. He immediately stood at attention, or at least part of him did. Unfortunately he couldn’t do anything about it at the moment. He and Mel had work to do. While Palmer searched for Calypso, they planned to track down some of her witchy friends. Someone with access to the Witches’ Council might know how to help her avoid the wrath of the demon clans.

“Are you sure you want to take on the Witches’ Council?” he asked as he led her toward the front door of the bakery. “I thought you wanted to have as normal a life as possible now that the curse is broken.”

“Mmm.” She kissed him lightly. “I do, but nothing will be normal until we find Calypso. Once we find her and make sure she’s safe from the demon clans, we can have all the normal we want. You’ve got a lot of sun to catch up on, and I want to share that. I can work at night, and so can you so we can spend our days together.”

Blake caught her in his arms, reluctant to let her go just yet, even if it was only for a moment. “Even if we just spend the day in bed?”

“Especially if we just spend the day in bed. Now, I’ve got to go make some calls to Cal’s friends. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed him again and slipped away to start her search.

Blake watched her go and sighed. He’d have preferred sharing Melodie’s days and her nights, but he could definitely learn to live with this arrangement, once he set the Council straight about a few things himself.

After all, getting hard certainly beat turning to stone.