Renegade Fey

By: Gargress

Gargress@yahoo.com

Date started: Friday, August 28,1998

Date finished: Wednesday, April 14, 1999

Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Disney and/or Buena Vista Television. In no way was I trying to do anything with these wonderful characters for my own personal gain. I love writing, and I love Gargoyles. (So don’t sick your rabid lawyers on me, please!! ;-)

Of course everyone recognizes which characters are property of The Great Disney Imagineers, but Pyper A.K.A. Maya A.K.A Anea L. Yolen, Micheal Reyman A.K.A. Ray E. Manning, Nicholas Connors A.K.A Niko, and Demona’s lackies along with Kate belong to me. All other new characters hale from my lil’ ol’ noggin’ ;-) while I borrowed Owen’s secretary, Ms. Chambers, from Tara O’Shea (please forgive me :-).

I write stories for fun and the enjoyment of others. This is my first story posted on the ‘net. Sooooo, all reading beyond this point be prepared for mini typo demons who love to reek havoc here and there ;-P

Dedication: I’d like to especially thank Kelly, my local fellow garg fan for being my beta-reader :-) Lotsa love to ya! ;-) I’d like ta tip my hat to Steph who helped me with building my ‘site with HTML, and let’s face it, without her I wouldn’t be able to post this. All others out in the Gargoyles Fanfic Universe, I’ve probably read most of if not all your fanfics. You’ve all been great inspirations, and I’d just like to say all you authors are AWESOME!! Most of all, I’d like to praise and pay homage to the Great Mouse for without him there would be no Gargoyles ;-)

Also, I’d like to extend a taloned hand of welcome to anyone with questions, comments, or suggestions. Constructive critcism is always welcome :-) I’m also a proud member of Clan Moray, a Yahoo! Club, so peeps again I holla, "Criticism is welcome!"

Author’s note: This story as well as all my others will be taking place after "Hunter’s Moon." You might see a few familiar lines from the TGS series as well as other stories that I felt were too good to pass up not using (Remember: Immitation is the finest form of flattery ;-), but the whole plot was mine alone so if you can find it in your hearts to forgive a beginner fanfic writer ;-)

Warning: From here on in there’s a few little snippets of PG language and innuedoes, not much so don’t sweat it, but if you have too delicate a palette then I advise you not to read on. Other than that little unnessecary warning, everyone I hope you like ;-)

All right, lemme see......... I’ve got all my little creativity demons busy at work, "No dawdling people! We’ve got a deadline yesterday!!" My imagination and I have a train booked for the Creation Station, and my fingertips are prancing upon the keys........... yup! I think we are set!!

* * * * * * *

The night sky was filled with stars, each twinkling and glittering like silver tears in a dark velvety cradle. The moon was full and radiant, illuminating the night with its luster.

One would expect a night like this to be peaceful, but the natives of this isle of towers, glass, and stone know better. The cool night air was filled with the lively, and rather noisy, sounds of the Manhattan night hours. The blaring of claxons, sirens, and car alarms echoed through the dark and narrow alleyways sending the occasional small, furry creature scurrying deeper into the shadows of twilight...

... and Brooklyn also knew the kind of trouble that lurked where unsuspecting victims never dared to speculate. The night was slow, there was none of the usual crime tonight, although most of the offenders were either incarcerated, considering new job options, or seeking psychiatric help.

The crimson gargoyle grimaced, a sudden bitterness rising in his heart. His rookery brother Lex was a techno-geek with a love for anything computerized and paid homage to the God of Microsoft. Goliath had Elisa, Broadway had Angela, and Hudson….. well, two outta three wasn’t bad. Though, his track record with women wasn’t nearly as impressive. He remembered before the massacre of his clan he was much content in causing mischief with his rookery brothers, too young to contemplate the need of companionship. Now, in this new time and place loneliness had set in. His infatuation with Demona nearly cost the clan Goliath. Maggie the cat had found her hero and protector in Talon, not him. Angela had found her love in Broadway, considering the lonely heart club president of the clan only as a friend. Oh yeah, luck isn’t a lady tonight, or any night—

A shrill scream, clear as a bell on a Sunday morn, snapped Goliath’s second-in-command back to reality. He sighed, wings snapping open to catch the updrafts. A quiet night in Manhattan?, he mused, What was I thinking?

Kate screamed her fright, in hopes of a gargoyle to be near. It was their gullible nature to try and hide their true demonic personalities by "saving" people.

Predictable as ever, a growl proceeded the sharp swoop of a winged figure, knocking both of Kate’s "attackers" a good 10 to 15 feet away. One crashed in the nearby dumpster, the top slamming down after him. The second flew headfirst into a pile of trash cans and ripped trash bags, sending a few yowling cats leaping out of harm’s way. Playing the proper victim, Kate cowered in a dark corner; the shadows hiding the victorious smirk plastered across her face.

The monster leaped down a few scant feet from Kate, its beaked profile visible in the dim light of the alley. It cloaked its wings, perhaps as not to look intimidating but Kate was taught better than to rely on appearance alone when dealing with these unnatural beasts.

"I won’t hurt you Miss," it intoned in a deep but scratchy sort of tone. This was Kate’s cue.

"Too bad I can’t say the same for you, you monstrosity. NOW!!" she commanded, her smug smirk making him tense only to growl aloud at the sudden piercing pain in his shoulder. He reached over to have his talons retrieve a small dart the size of a human thumb.

Brooklyn first felt tired, then his limbs felt heavier with each passing moment. He blinked to clear his blurring vision when he fell to knees, the shadows of the back street playing tricks on him. No, they really were moving.

The groggy gargoyle lifted his head at an angle to see men in dark blue costumes circle around him, glowing hammers in their hands, ready to swing. Two maybe three threw themselves across his back and wings. Too weak to struggle, Brooklyn only managed to throw one off balance, but the offender relentlessly lept back on with his arms locking around his throat from behind. Frustrated, the burgundy gargoyle jerked as he stretched in a sudden jerk motion, succeeding in shaking off all his assailants. Fearing for his safety, Brooklyn’s eyes burned a furious white as he stood his ground, too groggy to climb, all exits were blocked and he was trapped.

Without warning a slender shadow dropped from above, landing protectively at his side with slanted eyes ablaze like the dying embers of fire. It growled like a wildcat, making some of their attackers step back, intimidated. Brooklyn didn’t know who the stranger was, but he desperately prayed history wasn’t repeating itself (Reference to "Temptation").

The Manhattan skyline was clear with lights sparsely dotting high-rise apartment buildings, and skyscrapers. A slender figure stood atop an old brick apartment complex, her hair shimmering like sterling in the faint moonlight, even though taken back in a hip-length ponytail.

She was clothed in an oversized linen blouse with baggy long sleeves; over that was an unbuttoned, ivory-satin vest. Snug, worn jeans along with woolen socks and rubber-soled boots warmed her legs and feet from the cool night air.

There’s going to be a good storm tonight, she mused. The cool gentle breeze was that of oncoming rains despite the sky’s clear appearance. Those clouds, not so threatening now in far distance, showed her speculation to be true.

A shrill scream jerked her out of her musings, the abrupt calling for help filling the night air. It sounded like it came from just a building over, in an alley, no doubt some punks trying to make easy money. Well, not tonight.

Determined to help in any way possible, she easily gained enough momentum to supernaturally vault across to the neighboring building. The possibilities of what happen to that woman ran through her mind, none good. That kept her going to the edge of that building. What she wasn’t expecting was something darting into the alley below from above, almost knocking her over with the tail winds.

Hair whipping about her heart-shaped face, pulled loose from its ponytail, she leaned over the raised ledge to see a brief battle take place, but... something wasn’t right.

The monste—no, not a monster. It was one of those gargoyle creatures. He had a well-defined beak, strength enough to lift a car, and though nobody else would’ve seen it from that high up, skin as red as a steamed lobster’s with talons twice as sharp.

"I won’t hurt you, Miss," she heard it say in a comforting way. It had cloaked its wings to seem less alarming.

"Too bad I can’t say the same for you, you monstrosity. NOW!!" was the reply, cynical in every way. The creature suddenly growled aloud toward the heavens in pain. Se saw him pull growled aloud towards the heavens in pain. She saw him pull out a small dart from his shoulder, the dart itself landing in some unforeseen place among the shadows. After that he was jumped by men in dark blue suits, with yellow Q’s embossed on the front and weakling defended himself as best he could. Anyone could see he was drugged, and was surrounded by men with large glowing hammers ready to strike him down. He didn’t look scared, tired was the word for it, and he needed help.

Without a thought, a simple rhyme flowed from her lips:

"My human form is now revealed,

for which my glamour will conceal.

This travesty I will now foil,

As a creature of the night,

A gargoyle!"

Upon her words a shimmering pale blue light engulfed her person with all the grandeur of a fairy dust.
All in a single breath intake, the hue of her human skin darkened considerably into a deep blue. Framed wings grew from her shoulder blades, ripping through her thin blouse & vest. A nagging pain developed in her head as a bony brow-ridge took the place of human eyebrows like a garish tiara. Four sharp talons replaced five blunt digits of each hand as protrusions grew from her elbows and knees. Abruptly, her skin lightened considerably to a frosted silver, the inside and back of her wings darkening to a black then lightening to a dusky blue-violet. Ivory white fans grew from originally blunt human teeth as a tail slithered out from the seat of her jeans, and her ears tapered slightly at the tips as her shoes were torn to shreds.

She wasted no time. In a smooth motion she leaped down into the narrow alleyway, having to draw her wide spanning wings closer to her body so they wouldn’t be scathed brushing along the rough brick walls.

In a short moment she touched down gracefully beside the other gargoyle, automatically venting her displeasure in a gradual building growl while her eyes blazed a starling devilish red. Yes, run like the cowards that you are, she thought as her talons curved like sharp daggers.

The next thing Brooklyn know Quarrymen were attacking from all sides, their hammers without technique, the only skills being those learned from a brief time in Little League. He knew the hammers were charged, thus making towards him, Brooklyn used their own momentum against them. Most had a one-way flight into the brick wall behind him.

Now, feeling tranquilizer taking full affect, the beaked gargoyle glanced at his unlikely ally to see she was taking care of business on her end. Eyes drooping, Brooklyn backed up close to the mysterious warrior in hopes that she would take care of the situation.

She saw the gargoyle beside her step closer, obviously already feeling the full effect of the tranquilizer the pumped him full of seeing as the fire escape was the only way the roof, the silver skin gargress growled furiously at the remaining Quarrymen. Distracted, they didn’t have time to react when she charged at them, throwing them into the wall. Seeing no one else posing a threat, she reached over and pulled the groggy red gargoyle up with her as she scaled the unstable structure.

Brooklyn tried his best to help this gargoyle pull him up, but when one of the gargoyle’s taloned hands closed around his wrist, he was certain this gargoyle was a she. He was more certain of this when both towards the rooftop. Somehow, he didn’t think it was Demona. Demona would’ve had no trouble pulling him up along with her. Maybe someone else...?

They reached the rooftop where the full moon shone more brightly than in the alley, which wasn’t much of a difference. Barely able to stand, Brooklyn forced his eyes open while he rubbed the back of his neck where a Quarrymen had grabbed hold. His vision mercifully cleared a bit, enough to realize no one was there.

"Hello?" he began, eyes searching the few shadows that the stacked crates and small lean-to made in the moonlight.

Then, a small movement in the shadows beside the small shed caught his attention. "Angela? Maggie?" he pondered aloud as he approached.

The silver-gilt gargress took refuge in the dark shadows, thankful that they cloaked her lustrous silver skin. He called out names. Angela? Maggie? There were more females of kind?

She pondered the risk of meeting this gargoyle. He seemed nice enough, but appearances can be deceiving. He’d be scared of something he hadn’t encountered before. Something like her could make him panic and attack with what little strength he had left. Or would he understand...?

Brooklyn stepped towards the shadows when he passed in his tracks. On instinct, he turned towards the east to see the telltale signs of morning peeking over the horizon… sunrise. He’d have, just enough time to wing it back to the castle. I think I feel up to it, he mused.

Back tot he shadows, "It’s almost sunrise. The Quarrymen could be nearby. You can come with me to my home and meet the others," he offered, his eyes glinted of hope as they searched the shadows.

The silver gargress had no idea what to do. He seemed nice enough. But he could be like all the others, a little voice told her, too closed minded to accept what I am and that I mean no harm. Well, another voice interjected, he is a gargoyle. How closed-minded can he be?

She took deep breath to calm her nerves... and stepped out steadily from the shadows.

A breath caught in Brooklyn’s threat. She was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Skin that shimmered in the fading moonlight, not unlike her hip-length locks which glittered like spun silver. She was very slender but strongly built, her muscles smoothly toned. Her height was much like Angela’s, and didn’t look far from Angie’s age either.

After getting over the initial shock of her appearance and clothes he managed to speak. "Who—" he steadied his voice, "Who are you?" was the $1,000,000 question.

She, uncertain of the next step, hesitantly cloaked her wings. Her lips parted, as if to answer but closed as if rethinking her reply. Then she answered, "Maya."

"I’m Brooklyn," he blurted out, after managing to keep his slack jaw to function properly again. "Where’d you come from?"

"England actually," she found it easier to say. It was, after all, the truth.

"Just visiting?" She nodded. "How long are you staying?"

"I’m not sure. Manhattan seems nice enough," she pondered aloud. There was a semi-uncomfortable pause.

"Thanks," he said suddenly, earning a confused expression from Maya’s face. "For saving my bacon from those Quarrymen before it got fried," he added hastily.

Brooklyn held his breath, gradually letting it out bit by bit. Open mouth, insert foot, he thought. Making a fool of myself in front of the new girl. Yeah. Real smart.

"You’re welcome," was the answer, her voice a soothing, softly accented tone.

Suddenly his limbs felt stiff and then they soon froze, with the rest of him encased in stone. Oddly enough, the last thing he heard was a startled female gasp and his name, "Brooklyn!"

Her wings snapped open in surprise when a gasp escaped her. The early morning sun warmed her skin, but had encased Brooklyn’s body in stone.

"Brooklyn!" she’d yelped in surprise. That was utterly stupid. She knew these creatures turned to stone during the day but had never seen it with her own eyes. When Brooklyn would awake he’d ask her why she’d been surprised to see him turn to stone. Of course, he’d assume she turned to stone as well during the day but he’d still be suspicious. She’d blown it, blown her chances for true expectance and trust from Brooklyn.

Maya approached the once speaking and breathing stone gargoyle in front of her, her taloned hand lightly touched his shoulder to have her sharp talons make a scratching sound against the stone.

Then, she began reciting:

"At Sunrise you are stone,

and known is your vulnerability.

So when the last rays of light are shown,

At sunset broken is this spell of invisibility."

A shimmering silver film shone on the statue like a second skin for a moment, a glittering in the early morning light. Then, it seemed to be absorbed into the gargoyle statue like a sponge soaking up water.

A faint smile touched her lips. She leaned forward a bit and touched a friendly kiss to the side of his beak. "Be well and sweet dreams friend Brooklyn," she whispered softly.

A sudden breeze picked up, rustling her loose tresses. In an instant she leaped of the building, the air catching her wings and carrying her off into the brightening sky.

******

"Re-Con 1 to Base. I repeat, Re-Con 1 to Base. Do you copy?"

"Yes, we copy. Any sign our quarry?"

"Yes and….. no."

"Explain," the voice with an irritated huff.

"The red monster was cornered in the ally but was rescued by an unidentified female gargoyle."

"Where are they?"

"Our operatives failed, not achieving our primary objective; the capture of a live gargoyle. Both creatures escaped to the roof……. That’s where we lost sight of them." There was a pause.

"How did you loose sight of two gargoyles on a roof top?" came a carefully controlled voice.

"In order not to detected we remained at a high altitude. We ran into turbulence and weaved into a cloudbank. When we regained control….. they were gone."

"Have your men return to base for refueling. Base out." The heavily accented voice was followed by static.

******

Wearing a sharp red business suit, the female CEO of Nightstone Unlimited was not a happy camper. Her plans for shifting Brooklyn’s allegiance in her favor had gone awry. Capturing, and casting the spell which made Goliath "see the truth" on him wouldn’t happen for weeks. Even months! Not having a gargoyle inside Castle Wyvern working as a double agent was going to delay her plan for too long.

Scowling more than usual, she glared at the inferior human before her. "How can your operatives loose sight of two gargoyles on a roof top?" she nearly growled but calmed somewhat, wanting to know more about this mysterious gargoyle in their midst. She sighed, "Tell me more about this new female gargoyle." She crossed her arms, awaiting an answer.

The broad-shouldered young man with chestnut hair, most probably of English descent, gathered enough courage to reply. Everyone cowered before Ms. Destine, and this young man was no exception. "As far as we know, madam, she hasn’t been sighted before this early morning. We’re certain she hasn’t come in contact with the others as of yet, from the expression on the gargoyle we already had cornered. It seems she’s as much a mystery to them as she is to us."

Dominique pondered this for a moment. Had she been in this gargoyle’s position, she would’ve also sided with Brooklyn, had she not known what a traitor to his own race he’d become. Maybe she might use this new pawn in the game to her advantage.

"Make sure to have our operatives on standby and at their posts with their eyes open. I want that gargoyle identified and traced. Is that clear?" she finished sharply.

"Yes Ms. Destine, but what about the red monster? Wouldn’t he be useful to the cause?"

To my cause he would. "He’ll report to the others he was attacked and they’ll no doubt be more alert for a few nights," she grumbled. With that she stalked out.

Blasted humans, she thought. What a better way to cloak my true motives than with their blinding hatred for my kind. The delicious irony, she mused.

******

She’d never tasted the wind on gargoyle’s wings before. Maya didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy... the feeling was unexplainable. Something this wonderful and exhilarating was impossible to put into words.

Having the whole city spread out below her in a colorful living tapestry made her giddy with childish glee. She giggled with a girlish delight, banking from side to side. Maya burst through a dense cloudbank with a loud laugh of enjoyment. Did the gargoyles know not what they had?

A stealth helicopter soundlessly circled to follow a lithe, winged figure gliding gracefully in the early morning sky.

"Re-Con 1 to Base. Re-Con 1 to Base. Do you copy, over?"

"We copy. Proceed."

"The unknown creature has been sighted. We have a visual."

"Then she isn’t stone?" The question was tainted with blatant interest.

"No sir."

"What’s your position?"

"We’re currently a few city blocks southeast of Times Square header north. Requesting orders sir."

"Do not engage." Then he added, "Follow at a distance and keep out of sight. Catalogue and report her activities. Remain on standby. Base, out."

******

This was turning out to be more interesting than expected, Reyman thought. Ms. Destine would certainly appreciate the valuable information, however little it may be. He also wished to indulge his own curiosity.

The day grew cooler as it readied to make its transition into night. Curious of the beaked gargoyle’s awakening, Maya circled around back towards the building she’d left his stone body. Angling her wings, Maya gracefully touched down upon the rooftop across the street from her point of interest. She kept her wings flared to decrease the momentum, which slowed her enough to take a few steps before coming to a complete stop. Satisfied with her landing she cloaked her wings, and walked to the front of the building where she kneeled behind the short brink wall, watching... waiting...

The late afternoon sky was a palette of colors. From the deepest of reds to the brightest of yellows, which all outline many of the towers on this foreign isle known as Manhattan. The sun slowly descended below the western horizon and the last rays of light faded, giving way to impending nightfall.

Upon the roof of an old condemned apartment building a dark transparent shadow faded into existence until it was almost tangible. Then, a dim white shimmering light engulfed the shadow. The light then faded, leaving a fierce gargoyle statue in its wake. Hairline cracks formed all over the statue, all of them intertwining like an intricate web. Suddenly a living, breathing red gargoyle burst from within the crumbling stone shell, sending stone chips flying. His yawn was more like a roar as he stretched towards the sky.

Brooklyn stretched his wings once more before settling them around his shoulders in a velvety black cloak. He scanned his surroundings for the gargoyle he’d met the night before, but to no avail. Here was no sign of her.

He elevated his beak to take in the air. Even though a day had passed, and it rained, he expected her scent to still be somewhere. The red gargoyle remembered where she’d hidden in the shadows of the small lean-to the night before. Taking only a few steps in that direction he caught wind of something that surprised a low growl from his throat. The scent was of an enticing mixture of spring blossoms and honeysuckle but hinted of something almost unexplainable to him. Another scent, which reminded him of the first night of spring.

The red gargoyle growled violently this time, not of pleasure but in anger. There was the scent of the Quarrymen strong in the air. He’d recognize their stench anywhere.

Eyes ablaze and teeth bared, Brooklyn ran and leaped into the night sky. His wings spread reflexively to catch the warm thermals, which carried him higher in the sky. With an unspoken urgency, Brooklyn banked towards his ancestral home. The Quarrymen will regret harming Maya.

Maya had watched the whole scene play out before her with fervent curiosity. Then she saw Brooklyn leap into the night, eyes ablaze in anger, but why? He’d looked as if he was searching for her. Could it be he feared for her safety? Then he must’ve thought their attackers abducted her the previous night. He must’ve gone to seek help from other gargoyles, she thought.

More than curious and excited at the prospect of new friends, Maya also lept gracefully into the partly clouded night sky, interested in seeing what these creatures called home. Her wings spanning to their full length, the female gargoyle rose higher and higher while still keeping a safe distance away from the object of her interest.

******

"Re-Con 1 to Base, Re-Con 1 to Base. Do you copy?"

"Yes, we copy. Report."

"The female landed on the building across from where we lost sight of the male last night. Seconds after sunset we saw a shadow begin to form on the rooftop the female was observing. Once it became darker it shone with a white light and the gargoyle male appeared. Then, he woke up."

"So he just faded into existence," commented a skeptical Mr. Michael Reyman.

"Don’t patronize me! I know what I saw!!"

"All right, but raise your voice to me again the next thing that will be fading into existence will be your last paycheck."

"Okay, okay. You don’t have to get so uptight."

Reyman sighed. "Do you have anything else to bring to my attention?"

"It seems the female is following the male back to the castle."

"No doubt wanting to meet other gargoyles," Reyman said more to himself than anyone else. To Re-Con 1, "Stay in pursuit of the female. We know where the gargoyle clan roosts. The female interests Ms. Destine. That’s why I’ll be taking over the observation of the female personally, as to ensure zero margin for errors."

"That’s not necessary. There won’t be any errors."

"Or so you say," Reyman said indifferently. "Be sure to keep a close watch on the female, and in your next report be able to tell me where she roots. If she’s following the male at a distance, that means she won’t be joining with the rest of the gargoyles anytime in the near future. Again, when you find out where she roosts I will take over. Copy?" he said a little forcefully.

A little reluctantly, "We copy. Bearing due northeast at 51 kilometers and climbing. She won’t give us the slip anytime soon."

"Good. Be sure to keep it that way, and keep me informed. Base, out."

******

Brooklyn weaved skillfully around the towering skyscrapers and business buildings of Downtown Manhattan. At the rate he was gliding at, all any unsuspecting human would see would be a dark dart with extra appendages. With the anger of Maya’s abduction fresh in his mind, Brooklyn glided faster than he had ever glided before to have his clan help in his search for the timid gargress he’d met the night before.

Dodging a few more buildings, the beaked gargoyle spread his wings to almost instantly catch the wind rise above the clouds.

Maya found it difficult to keep up. She also weaved around and between the tall buildings of Manhattan, her wing joints beginning to ache. The silver gargress weaved around a few more buildings, fearful she’d end up colliding into one of the towers of glass and stone at the velocity she was going. Rounding yet another building, Brooklyn was nowhere in sight. He’d just….. disappeared. Maya turned off and still saw no sign of Brooklyn. Where had he gone?

She banked to the left, making a graceful landing on an old apartment building. Cloaking her wings lightly about her delicate shoulders, Maya slowly scanned her surroundings for any sign of the red beaked gargoyle she met the night before.

As her eyes roamed, they fell upon the city’s tallest building, the Eyrie Building. Craning her neck she saw that the building seemed to go on forever, up to the heavens. Clouds hid the restored medieval structure at its apex from view. The thought that came to mind made a faint smile creep across her light pink lips. The idea was almost romantic. The castle above the clouds…..

Wait, hadn’t there been rumors, better said, assumptions of winged shadows gliding in the Eyrie Building’s general direction? There was much controversy with the billionaire’s credibility on the matter of gargoyle "monsters" residing in his home, although, Mr. Xanatos himself has denied any and all accusations on him associating with the creatures.

Maybe this should be looked into. With her resources, she could easily slip into the Eyrie. The high security would prove a challenge….. Her expression of contemplation melted into a slow mischievous smile. Butterflies born of anticipation fluttered in her stomach.

In a few graceful strides she found herself at the edge of the building she stood on. It only took her seconds to snap her wings open, catch the warm thermals rising from the city below, and leap off into the night with a sharp swoop.

"Re-Con 1 to Base. Subject is on the move. We’re in close pursuit. Standby….."

******

"….. standby….." and then static. Reyman sat as still as a statue, hands clasped together under his chin, deep in thought.

It wasn’t long until dawn and yet the female gargoyle didn’t show any sign of looking for a suitable place to roost. Re-Con 1 had lost her the night before but she’d remained flesh during the day, and showed no signs of turning to stone anytime soon. She certainly wasn’t gargoyle not anything he’d seen in his whole life. He thought, Whatever this female is, she will be of great use to Ms. Destine…… of great use to me.

******

Goliath’s second-in-command swooped down and landed rather recklessly on the castle courtyard. Not even bothering to cloak his wings, Brooklyn headed towards the nearest entrance leading to the room Xanatos had fashioned for them in the west wing. In his rush he collided with a green wall in the middle of the doorway. Fazed, the red gargoyle fell on his tail before a pair of green taloned feet.

"Hey!" a familiar voice said indignantly. The small olive-green gargoyle standing nearby peered at his fallen rookery brother on the floor with a teasing fanged grin.

"Have a nice trip?" quipped Lexington, eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Broadway, I should’ve known," grumbled Brooklyn as he got up. Tail aching, he moved the offended appendage while seriously addressing both his rookery brothers.

"Look, I need the clan’s help. Maybe even Xanatos’," Brooklyn said gravely, taking both gargoyles before him by surprise.

Lexington and Broadway exchanged uncertain glances. Then Lex spoke up, "For what?"

Broadway then commented, "Yeah. If you think you need Xanatos’ help it must be trouble."

"Well it is. Maya’s in trouble. When I woke up she was gone. The Quarrymen—"

"Whoa, whoa! Slowdown! Who’s Maya?" Broadway inquired, detective’s instinct kicking in.

"Did you say "she"?" Lexington asked in a tone of uncertainty.

Brooklyn grimaced inwardly. Well, he thought, they had to find out sometime. "Yeah," he grumbled. "She."

"Is she a….. gargoyle?" Lex asked, anxiety building in the small gargoyle. It’d be great to meet another gargoyle!

"Yeah, she is. The Quarrymen—"

"Could she be from Avalon? Angela said she had 15 other rookery sisters," Broadway interrupted, stating his thoughts aloud.

"I DUNNO! But she needs our help!" Brooklyn exclaimed. She needs my help, he thought vaguely. "The Quarrymen have her!"

At that, both gargoyles’ eyes widened but then Broadway’s narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know she isn’t in league with those guys?" he questioned. Then he pressed, "How do you know we can trust her? Brooklyn, I don’t mean to rain on your parade but—"

"Well you just did. She saved me from the Quarrymen after I got pumped full of something. Even Demona has limits and they don’t include joining those idiots. Even for revenge. I even talked with her, and judging by what she was wearing I think she was raised by humans.

"I don’t know. It all sounds too good to be true," commented Broadway while thoughtfully stroking his chin.

"Then what you’re saying is she’s innocent she’ll still be left to the Quarrymen? Forget it, I’m taking this to Goliath," Brooklyn said with such determination that made Lexington blink.

"Taking what to me?" rumbled a voice from behind Lexington and Broadway. All eyes went to Goliath as he emerged from the castle with Elisa at his side.

"I met a gargoyle and the Quarrymen kidnapped her. I’m asking for the clan’s help," Brooklyn spoke, meeting Goliath’s steady gaze head on.

At the revelation the clan leader’s eyes widened slightly, his usual speculative scowl gone and replaced with an expression born of interest. "Brooklyn," Goliath began calmly, "Who was this gargoyle?"

"Her name’s Maya. I think she was raised by humans because she dressed like one. Right down to the jeans."

Elisa then asked, "Where’d she come from? From all we know she could be working for Demona." All of the clan knew about their human friend’s dislike for the former second, and all of them shared it except for Angela.

"I dunno. But what I do know is that is we don’t hurry the Quarrymen will leave her for a pile of gravel," Brooklyn insisted,

The lavender leader sighed heavily, as he always tended to do, while crossing his thickly muscled arms. "How can you be so sure of this "Maya"?" The gargoyle rolled the unfamiliar name off his tongue. "Did you see her be abducted by the Quarrymen yourself?"

The red gargoyle’s beak opened as if to say something, but closed again to rethink his answer. Knowing he’d already lost the battle before it had begun, Brooklyn replied a low toned, "No."

An almost inaudible growl escaped Goliath’s throat as he sighed deeply once more. "You suspect she was taken during the day?"

"Yeah," the red gargoyle answered.

"Then why were you not taken as well?"

"Do you think I haven’t thought of that?!" Brooklyn snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Look Goliath, I was ambushed by Quarrymen. She saved me. We talked a little, and then the sun came up. When I woke up she was gone. Logically, the Quarrymen took her and I intend to do something about it."

"You cannot rush into danger without a plan Brooklyn," Goliath said forcefully.

"Yeah, Goliath’s right. You can’t go in with a plan. It’s more than dangerous. It’s suicide. I don’t mean to put you down Brooklyn but there’s too many variables in this. Who knows, maybe she’ll show and raiding the Quarrymen would’ve been for nothing." Elisa sighed. "We don’t want to loose you."

The beaked gargoyle glanced around at the expectant faces of his clan. Apparently Hudson, Bronx, and Angela had walked in one their "meeting." The red gargoyle sighed in submission, expression sullen. "All right. All right. I’ll wait, but." The gargoyle stared at Goliath icily, "if anything happens to her it’ll be your fault." With that, Brooklyn stalked into the castle with an intimidating scowl on his beak.

After the rebellious gargoyle was out of earshot, "Sometimes I wonder if I made a wise choice making Brooklyn second-in-command," rumbled Goliath.

"You can’t mean that Father," Angela implored, her hands on biological father’s forearm.

"Not sincerely, no. But he must learn restraint, and learn not to endanger the lives of his charges uselessly at the prospect of another gargoyle female," the lavender gargoyle stated.

"Brooklyn is but a lad Goliath. Ye must take that into consideration in these matters," suggested the gargoyle elder.

"He is also an able bodied warrior with serious responsibilities and duties to this clan," Goliath countered.

Elisa stepped in with a stern glare at Goliath. Crossing her arms she said, "So what you’re saying is that he should put the clan first and the safety of another second?"

"Are you defending his carelessness Elisa?" the larger gargoyle rumbled his gaze down on the clan’s first human friend.

"No. All I’m saying is he shouldn’t be scolded like a child just for caring about someone’s well-being. Granted that he should think of the consequences that might come by charging into something this serious, but you can’t judge the way he thinks when he comes to you for your help. His heart is in the right place..." she trailed off when she knew the gargoyle leader could sympathize.

Goliath sighed his heavy sigh as he often did while submitting to Elisa’s logical reasoning. "You are right of course Elisa. I shall go speak with him."

When Goliath moved to leave Hudson’s voice made him pause and turn to face the elder. "Maybe you should leave the lad be fer now. Let him cool down a might first before ye continue this "discussion."

"Yeah, Hudson’s right Goliath. If I know Brook, he’ll be pretty steamed for a few night," commented Broadway.

"Very well. I’ll let it go," Goliath intoned, beginning to walk away. "For now," no one heard Goliath grumble under his breath.

"Someone fill me in. We got here a little late remember?" Elisa aimed the question at the 2/3 of the trio whom were present. "Well Lex? Any commented Broadway?"

The large gargoyle was long sense standing by Angela and intently listening. Now his expression was unsure as he began to spin his tale, Lexington adding and clearing up a few points here and there. "….. and that’s it."

"So Brooklyn’s assuming those terrorists have her but he isn’t sure?" Elisa repeated.

"Yup, we all know he’s girlcra—" at Angela’s "look" Lex rephrased what he was going to say. "—uh, lonely."

"We should all keep a look out for this "Maya" lass. I doubt the lad was hallucinatin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this," Hudson suggested in his thick Scottish brogue.

"I agree. It would be good to have another female gargoyle to talk to," Angela smiled, but then she looked apologetically at her human friend. Elisa interrupted the female gargoyle’s apology with a smile.

"Don’t worry Angela. I understand." Glancing at her watch, the detective excused herself before taking off. "I’m on shift in a few minutes. See ya later guys, Angela."

After saying their good-byes Angela said, "I suppose we should go on patrol as well."

"Gonna come with us Hudson?" Broadway inquired as Lex and Angela walked towards the courtyards high walls. "Bronx needs the exercise," he added.

Bronx whined up at the elder, ears drooping and tail wagging. "Ach! All right boy. All right! I need the exercise as well, I’d wager."

******

"Re-Con 1 to Base. Subject has landed on a building at the corner of Houston and North Broadway, in the Village. Perimeter’s secure. Structure seems residential. Request to proceed."

"Request denied. Record and file every detail then report back to Base. I have no other need for either of you at this time. Base out."

"Grimacing, both henchmen did as told. "Hope there’s a big fat pay check with our names on it when we get back," grumbled one of them. The other grunted his agreement. For the right kinda cash, he thought, I’d believe in Santa Claus and little green men.

******

Reyman sat in the presence of the much-feared Dominique Destine, careful to keep any expression of distaste from his face. This was no one to be made angry.

In a respective royal blue business suit, the red-haired woman awaited a report from one of the many people on her company’s payroll. As soon as he finished all the details, came her questions.

"Are you saying she owns her own condo?" Dominique said, careful to keep her tone skeptical as to not induce that more than that was possible.

"Yes," he began. "As you are aware of, there are many ways it can be done, with computers, more so now than ever. She can even have groceries delivered without anyone suspecting anything more than her being an eccentric loner who doesn’t want to be seen."

"So you are taking over surveillance personally?"

"Yes ma’am. To ensure no mistakes will be made. Of course I’ll have a small squad of men with me."

"Of course," she muttered, not really paying attention as her mind wandered. It appeared that this new gargoyle hadn’t met the clan yet, so there might be a good chance Domini—or rather Demona could turn her into a "true" gargoyle’s perspective of life, humans in particular. There more allies the better.

"No," she suddenly said sharply. "On second thought, you handle this on your own. Call in men only if necessary." Her cold green eyes fastened on his. "I will net tolerate any foul-ups."

"Very well Ms. Destine. Now, if you’ll excuse me….." He started for the door.

"Keep me well informed and I’ll have no need for night surveillance on our 'mystery' gargoyle. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," he grumbled, thankful he already was out the door.

The young woman sat in an impeccable modern-furnished office, typing like there was no tomorrow.

Her posture was relaxed, slender shoulders level. In a mauve, mid-thigh length skirt and sleeveless black silk blouse, she was the stereotype of a young successful businesswoman. The name Anea L. Yolen adorned the plaque on her desk as well as the door to her office.

Matching long-sleeved mauve jacket, also mid-thigh length long since hanging from the back of her chair, "Anea" glanced at the wall cloak. Her shift was almost over.

Part of her was relieved, for now she could tend to the sole reason why she was here in the first place. It had been a particularly stressful day, work-wise, since she’d spent it checking data losses, virus scans, defragmenting and retrieval of important files. Not only that; a hacker had managed to break into the system that evening. Being a free-lance hacker herself, she knew the general M.O. The intruder had ended up disconnected and empty handed, save for a particularly nasty virus that had been blasted over with a decoy file.

Anea sighed, leaning back and staring at the glowing screen before her. Obtaining the profession of systems analyst at XanaCorp was simple enough, though she couldn’t say the same for the interview the day before….

... Cushioned on a fashionable but modern sofa, Anea awaited to be seen by Mr. Xanatos’ Executive Assistant, a Mr. Owen Burnett. She’d taken certain "precautions" before meeting her future interviewer and boss.

She’d made a sort of dossier on this Owen Burnett. Years before he’d worked with Cyberbiotics Inc. and for a Halcyon Renard. It’d been his first profession in upper management, and he’d maintained it for twelve years. At thirty-two he was skilled in unarmed combat including martial arts training. He had no hobbies, no pastimes, no quirks, and no eccentricities. Though she’d compiled the schools he’d graduated summa cum laude in a dual business and biochemistry degree. He was also well-versed in literature and the like. He was noted as very sharp and dependable as well as loyal. Anea was rather looking forward to meeting someone of his accomplishments. His credentials were almost too perfect—

"Excuse me miss. Um, Ms. Yolen?" the pleasantly calm voice of Ms. Chambers, Mr. Burnett’s own assistant/secretary, jerked Anea out of her reverie. "Mr. Burnett will see you now."

Anea hung her laptop’s satchel from her shoulder as she stood with a friendly smile towards the secretary, tucking a loose inky black lock of hair that's come loose from her French Braid behind her ear. She paused to collect herself just before entering Burnett's domain.

Seated rigidly at his desk, Owen Burnett intently studied the newest applicant's resumé for the job of systems analyst. A Ms. Anea Lorelie Yolen. At first glance the name had caught his attention. As he thumbed through the neatly written resumé, he couldn't help but be impressed with this person's abilities. She was perhaps more qualified for the job than any other of the applicants. He gave the neat stack of resumés at his right a glance. Edinburg, Florence, MIT were all impressive schools, as well as the degrees that accompanied them. It also stated she was diligent and responsible. He glanced at his Rolex. Well, it was time to meet the person behind the paperwork. "Send Ms. Yolen in Ms. Chambers....."

Anea strode into the office with as much dignity as she could muster, the secretary closing the door behind her. A tall blond-haired man of medium build stood from his seat to acknowledge her presence. He was taller than she’d anticipated and seemed utterly unflappable in his tasteful navy suit, but something in this man’s cool blue gaze betrayed his emotionless appearance.

"Anea Yolen," she said in a lilting English accent, hand extended in greeting. "You would be…..?"

Slightly taken aback by her question, hesitated a moment before shaking her smaller, more delicate hand gently. None of the other applicants even dared to make eye contact with him. "Owen Burnett," he replied, in the very refined accent of a BBC newsreader who’s lived abroad for decades. He suddenly had an odd premonition of something when his eyes met hers—an odd turquoise color.

After releasing his hand, Owen motioned for her to sit down in a seat before his desk. During the interview Owen had a chance to inspect the cause of his premonition further. Wearing a smart jade/topaz blue suit seemed to make her eyes and fair complexion more prominent. Did her hair glint of silver, or was it a trick of the light? Truthfully, he was intrigued by this mortal and the trickster Puck was not oft beguiled. It was odd. Something glittered in her eyes, which reminded him of his homeland Avalon.

He noticed she answered every question with a complete explanation. All her credentials seemed in order, and he’d called one of the numbers in her résumé to get a glowing referral from a former employer.

Anea had butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and it wasn’t of fears that she wouldn’t get the job. For some reason, this man was putting her on edge. He seemed so straight-laced and dour, but his eyes betrayed him. Those weren’t the eyes of the cold man he appeared to be. They seemed to dance with hidden secrets and private amusements she would’ve not thought him capable of after his initial first impression on her. Somehow, the little buggers in her stomach weren’t unnerving at all. They always tended to show up when something was amiss or trouble was brewing. Anea called it her own version of a "gut instinct." But now, the feeling was more alerting than alarming. There was certainly something more about this man than met the eye.

He’d decided. If Ms. Yolen worked for XanaCorp he could better quench this insatiable curiosity he had for her. "Welcome to XanaCorp Ms. Yolen," he finally said, rising out of his seat as she did to grasp her hand in a gentle as well as friendly gesture, not aware a hint of a smile had crept across his lips. It somewhat surprised him that she offered a gentle smile, which was not at all unpleasant, he admitted to himself.

"I will be a sincere pleasure working here Mr. Burnett," she murmured politely, heading towards the door with her new employer.

"I will expect to see you here tomorrow promptly at eight," Owen said, politely opening the door Ms. Yolen.

"Thank you and goodnight Mr. Burnett," she smiled once more, and gracefully walked away.

Before closing the door Owen stopped dead in his tracks. He caught traces of Ms. Yolen’s fragrance from where he stood its familiarity of early spring blossoms and honeysuckle reminded him of eternal summers and cool nights on Avalon.

This Ms. Yolen was different in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on. It was a sort of magical feeling that told him she was not just another lackey at XanaCorp. He was seldom wrong with these things, however dulled his magical senses were while in this mortal coil…..

…… Anea still had yet speak to Mr. Burnett that day, or even see him at a distance. She supposed he was a very busy man since he was in charge of all David Xanatos’ personal & business affairs. The young woman mentally scoffed at her straying thoughts. She was there to find more information about Castle Wyvern’s "gargoyle" sightings possibly even find the whereabouts of Brooklyn himself. A smile crossed her lips as she logged out of XanaCorp Networks. The thought of making a true friend at last made her lonely heart soar. Finally someone to talk to!

Anea turned of her screen while leaving her computer on standby. She slipped on her mauve business jacket, slung the black leather satchel containing her laptop over her shoulder, and quit the room.

Being systems analyst for the company whose computers she was infiltrating, possessing the right passwords, she could "browse through" all the files she wished using an imitation of the super user account. The imitation would be enough to confuse the computer, but on the log-in records her entry will show up as someone with Beta Clearance who only checked on the inventory supply list from a terminal within the building itself. It’ll be hell trying to replace the computer records, but it’ll all be worth it at the end. It always has been worth it at the end.

She spared a friendly smile to the security guard seated at the front desk as she casually walked out pair of glass double doors.

******

Hazel eyes flecked with green steadily followed the fluid movements of "Anea Yolen," as she called herself now, as she walked across the street to her silver Mercedes. Taking his time, he calmly clipped his sunglasses down over his eyes, and tailed the expensive convertible Mercedes to a sky apartment in the Village. His employer was going to be most pleased.

******

Reyman watched Anea greet the doorman as she walked inside the residential building. Maybe she was that female gargoyle’s human friend, like Maza and the gargoyle clan at Wyvern. A slow smile spread across his face. If he befriended this Yolen woman, he’d eventually find out what he wanted. The smile spread even wider as he turned and began walking down the sidewalk across the street from Yolen’s apartment building. Ms. Destine was going to be very pleased. If his sources were correct, there was a vacant apartment in that same building on that same floor. Oh this was going to be sweet, very sweet, he chuckled.

******

Dominique Destine stood in her inner sanctuary hidden behind a false wall in her office, watching the sun sink below the horizon, painting the sky a multitude of fiery colors.

"And so it begins," she said gravely, the last rays of light dissolving into dusk.

The businesswoman let out a sharp cry of pain, which soon turned into a demon’s loud banshee cry. Hunched over, her expensive suit was soon torn to shreds as talons took the place of fingers, bony protrusions grew from her knees, elbows, and forehead. Her skin darkened considerably to a blue as pure as a clear night sky. Human ears became elongated, as teeth became fanged. A final panther growl emanated from the once-human’s throat as her eyes glowed like the dying embers of a fire. Wings splayed out behind her, Demona growled in the anger and frustration she felt when she went through this accused transformation!

A frustrated sigh escaped the ancient gargoyle as she slipped out of her ruined human clothes and into her usual loincloth and midriff attire complete with jewelry. Demona confidently over to the south wall of her private office, which slid aside at a push of a hidden button, revealing a dimly lit staircase ascending to the roof of the Nightstone complex.

The millenium old gargoyle climbed the staircase and reached the top to stop through a doorway and be greeted by the kiss of the cool night air. A gentle breeze stirred her flame red hair, a sudden all-consuming heaviness in her long since cold heart. Visions of past happenings swarmed in her mind, the betrayals of long-since dead allies fresh in her memory. A jumble of emotions burned in the pit of her stomach, her eyes wandering closed and reopening revealing them to be burning bright like a rekindled flame. Many times she had given her trust only to have it turned on her by a deceitful, scheming human. Always a human!

The red glow in her eyes subsided as her thoughts drifted to her plans for the newest gargoyle in the city. What had transpired in the last few days and nights had given her new hopes for the starting of a new clan of true gargoyles, a clan much like the one she had formed of rogue gargoyles centuries ago in Scotland. Only his time she would hand pick her allies, and she will lead them to the dawning of a new era where gargoyles will take their rightful place as rulers of this world. I will take my rightful place, Demona smiled slyly. For once everything is so clear!

The female gargoyle spread her wings to soar into the darkening night sky, her own heart soaring with the anticipation of a clan. One which will view and understand these human vermin for what they really are!

******

Hazel eyes, the very same that had tracked "Anea" to her apartment, now stared lazily ahead as he waited for his call to be answered. It was picked upon the second ring.

"Yes?" a deep bass voice answered impatiently.

"Sir, I’ve located our quarry."

"Excellent, Conners. She has eluded us long enough already. Soon it will be time to execute part two of my plan," rumbled the voice with great satisfaction.

"I’ll have her nightly routine e-mailed to you sir, ASAP."

"Good. Postponing the plan for another night will do no harm. Our quarry doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon."

"May I ask as to why sir?"

"Let’s just say that an old business partner of mine has entered the game."

******

Her skin cooled in the comfortable surroundings of her condo. Anea sighed blissfully. A hot shower always calmed her nerves and relaxed her muscles.

Clad in an old faded violet sweater, a size too big and gray stretch shorts Anea wandered out of her bedroom and into her living room just in time to see a dark winged shadow land out on her patio.

A small gasp escaped her as she ducked back into her large bedroom, easing the door closed while careful to leave a small crack she could peek out of. She flinched upon hearing the lock of her glass sliding door be torn off its screws like so much scrap metal. Random thoughts reeled through her head.

If this gargoyle had sought out her condo, it was obviously after "Maya." Well, Anea resolved, I’ll see it through ‘till the end. She recited a simple rhyme that automatically came to her mind:

"A stranger I now shall be meeting,

I must be swift, for time is fleeting.

I have to change; I know just the thing,

I’ll make this acquaintance as a creature of fang, claw and wing."

She felt familiar tingle as her magic worked its course and she was once more a gargoyle. Maya gathered all her courage and took a deep cleansing breath before confidently striding out to meet her unexpected guest.

Now she was free of the human world for another night, Demona closed her eyes and smiled. It was a lovely night for gliding, not a gargoyle or helicopter in sight. Her smile dulled a bit. After over a thousand years of life, she’s appreciated nights like this….. alone, but no more. Tonight was going to change her lonely existence. To belong to a clan of true gargoyles once more….. her heart soared. A look of determination crossed her face. Nothing was going to ruin tonight, nothing.

Demona banked her wings, and with the cool night air whipping through her hair she landed gracefully on a condo’s patio. A quick glance around showed the patio to be decorated in a way similar to a garden, complete with a small but elegant white metal table with duel matching chairs.

Her eyes drifted forward to a pair of glass sliding doors. Seeing no movement inside, Demona knocked off the glass doors’ lock with a quick swipe of her sharp talons. It fell to the floor with a clatter of metal against flagstone. Skillfully she entered into the main living room, which was decorated in a kind of modern style, all metal and glass.

The lights were on, Demona observed, which meant someone was here. She lifted her head in a sharp, jerky movement as an unfamiliar scent reached her nostrils. The immortal gargoyle attempted to comprehend the feeling of déjà vu she felt, not about the scent but the feeling it caused. Whatever she sensed, it unsettled her.

A sudden movement caught her attention and she whirled in it direction with a fierce growl, eyes ablaze, and violet wings flared. Demona almost recoiled at the sudden presence of the female gargoyle she’d only seen in photos and videos. Her looks were compelling enough, which was an advantage, but there was something else about her.

The newcomer flared her silver framed wings, eyes flashing bright red at the prospect of an attack brought on by a stranger. Sensing that she could defuse the newcomer, Demona cloaked her wings as her eyes returned to normal. "I mean you no harm young one," Demona said in a soothing manner.

At this the newcomer calmed somewhat, cloaking her wings as her eyes also returned to normal but her face retained a suspicious glare that Demona was all too familiar with. "What business do you have here?" the silver gargress asked warily.

"You don’t let you guard down." Demona smiled. "Trust me, it’s a good thing. I see you’ve taken to a human’s way of living, not that I blame you. It is a human’s world after all, but we can change that." Demona stepped forward. The silver female stepped back cautiously, but the immortal gargoyle saw the uncertainty glint in the newcomer’s eyes, which were an odd deep violet.

"You’re avoiding the issue. Who are you? Why are you here?" the silver female pressed in an English accented voice.

Demona’s fangs clenched for a second of anger as she stopped in her tracks. Unexpectedly she smiled in an oddly friendly way. This young one had potential. "The humans named me long ago. I am Demona," the immortal paced herself, taking great satisfaction in the intimidating tone of her voice. "Taking into consideration how traditions have changed, what is your name? Or am I to keep calling you 'young one'?"

The immortal saw the newcomer hesitate for not even a millisecond before she answered, never letting her guard down. "I am called Maya." Crossing her arms, she continued. "Now, do you have a valid explanation for trespassing or shall I resort to forcibly throwing you out?" she said, her brow lifting expectantly for an answer.

"Learn this Maya," Demona began. "Never challenge an opponent unless absolute victory is inevitable." When surprise and uncertainty glinted in the younger female’s eyes, Demona continued with a confident smirk. "One of the many lessons I intend to teach you." Now, her tone turned more serious, "Only the strong survive my young friend. I have learned that through the many hardships and betrayals I have suffered at the hands of treacherous humans. That is why I came. We need to rally our kind, separate the true gargoyles from those who have gone soft, been corrupted by the humans." With each word Demona stepped closer to Maya, and now clasped the younger gargoyle’s shoulders so suddenly with both hands that Maya had no time to elude Demona’s grasp.

"Join me sister. Take up the cause and take part in the making of a new era where our kind will no longer be treated as animals. Where we will be respected and honored, and anyone who opposes will be shown the same "courtesy" they have shown us over the centuries. Join me in my struggle against the humans sister." Demon let one hand fall to her side as she said, in a more calmed tone, "It is for the good of our kind. Gargoyles will once more thrive and become the masters of this planet, and it will be the humans who will bow to us."

The deep passion for revenge and retribution Maya saw in Demona’s eyes chilled her to the bone. This gargoyle was obviously nothing like Brooklyn, and Maya doubted this female was even of his clan. She had a feeling she’d better put this as gently as possible. A wrong answer could push this Demona the psychological edge.

Maya took a step back causing Demona’s hand to fall from her shoulder. With a face that betrayed to emotion, save for a seriousness that rivaled even Owen Burnett’s best, Maya said, "I am afraid I must decline your generous offer Demona." The finality in Maya’s tone was not to be argued with.

Surprise first registered on the immortal’s face, closely followed by grim determined. Like it or not, her plan all began with the allegiance of this gargoyle, and she was going to cooperate….. or else.

Demona straightened, shoulders squaring in the anticipation of a "discussion." She forced a pleasant smile onto her face. "Very well then. I did not expect you to make your decision tonight, so we will contact each other when you reach your final decision."

The elder gargoyle walked towards the open sliding door, the cool night air stirring her bright crimson hair. She turned halfway to gaze back at Maya. "Perhaps we might learn more about each other on a later date. It might help you decide."

"Perhaps," came the clipped answer, Maya’s expression carved from stone, eyes piercing.

Demona nodded once in agreement and strode out to the balcony/patio. She jumped gracefully onto the stone railing, and leaped into the night sky, her eerie battle cry echoing in her wake.

Maya allowed herself to relax a Demona’s winged shape faded into the night, no longer within seeing distance. She rubbed her arms in an up and down motion, then shivered. There was a whirl of jumbled emotions within Demona. Overwhelming sadness and anger accompanied with strong feelings of hatred were only a few emotions Maya was able to read without feeling as if her head was about to explode accompanied by dizzying nausea. In some strange way she could sympathize with Demona’s hurtful feeling. All the betrayal and false friends Demona had endured, she had endured also while learning that trust is something not to be given lightly.

The silver gargoyle massaged both her temples simultaneously, trying to dull the sudden headache in the core of her mind. Demona had some kind of "presence" about her which had the same effect as would inhaling the fumes of wet paint would cause. She attempted to dismiss the dull ache with a slow shake of her head, only succeeded in pushing it aside for a moment while she concentrated on the task at hand.

Extending a taloned hand towards the fallen sliding door lock, a sudden breeze stirred her hair as the lock was covered in an eerie white glow and then disappeared only to reappear on the now-closed sliding door. It appeared as if nothing had happened.

Tired as she was, Maya closed the verticals, which covered the glass doors from sight, and in one smooth motion she reverted back to her true form, too tired to keep her human appearance any longer either.

Rubbing her temple once more, Anea tucked a loose lock of silver hair behind a delicately tapering ear, and tiredly trudged into her bedroom while the light behind her conveniently shut off. Yawning, she slipped under the warm covers of her bed between silk sheets. Pyper closed her eyes, blissfully welcoming a good night’s rest.

Conners lowered his binoculars and slipped them into his black backpack. He recorded the happenings of the Yolen household in a notebook for later filing and put that away as well. Nothing was going to get by him tonight, nothing.

Anea had eluded them in Paris, London and Liverpool. Then, she’d fled here to the states. She’s barely escaped from Boston alive, now she was in New York, which he considered a lucky break. Tracking someone in New York merely depended on the right connections and equipment.

The hireling slung his black backpack over his shoulder as he began striding to the nearest exit of the rooftop just across Anea’s condo. He murmured, "Sleep well Yolen because it’ll be the last good night’s rest you’ll have in a long time."

******

Anea awoke that morning in a rush. She was going to be late if she hurried at anything less than the speed of light.

Grabbing her blazer and laptop’s satchel, she rushed out the door with the keys in her hand. Busy jamming the key of her condo into the front door’s lock, Anea didn’t see the hand coming up behind her. She whipped around with gasp, her satchel fall from her hand.

The same hand caught her satchel before it hit the floor, though her keys clattered on the expensive tile when they fell from the doorknob. "Whoa! Didn’t mean to scare you, Miss," said a soothing male tone.

Anea blinked and calmed herself down while running a few locks of inky black hair behind her ear. She hadn’t time to tie it back, Anea realized with displeasure. Her turquoise eyes met an oddly endearing pair of chocolate brown eyes. She tries to keep her voice from wavering. "No, it’s all right." She picked up her keys and stood straighter than before to face the stranger. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before. Who are you?"

Those brown eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement as a smile played about his lips. "Your neighbor actually. I just moved in down the hall."

Anea remembered that the condo opposite to hers, down the hallway, was for sale. The condos were set so there were three on each floor, one across the elevator, one to the right of the elevator and another to the left. "Then I hope you enjoy living here sir. Now if you’ll excuse me….." She began walking towards the elevator. His hand gently caught her wrist making her turn.

"How rude of me. I’m Ray Manning." Their hands grasped in a brief shake.

"A pleasure, really Mr. Manning. Pardon me but I really must be going, um, my bag if you will?" she said politely, her English descent showing more and more.

Ray smiled and took the liberty of slipping her satchel onto her shoulder. He was strongly built, Anea vaguely noticed. Strong facial features with a kind of physique that cost hundreds of dollars these days. His eyes were what put her on guard. They were like chocolate covered grenades, sweet on the outside while hiding something potentially dangerous within. "Thank you. I’m Anea Yolen. I wish we could chat but I’m already late for work," she said, glancing at her watch.

"Then I won’t keep you Ms. Yolen. I’ll take a rain check on that little chat," he said while she securely locked her door, and began walking away. She nodded with a small polite smile at lips while stepping into elevator. When the doors closed and she alone, Anea let out a long breath she’s been holding. This Ray Manning had the look of perfectly normal rich guy who only needed a sweater draped around his shoulders to complete the look, but something was amiss. The plummeting feeling her stomach told her so. This man was not at all what he appeared to be.

******

Rushing out of her elevator on the 58^th floor of the Eyrie Building, Anea was greeted by the usual employees on her way to her office. Show gave an occasional half smile or nod but she rarely waved. Anea glanced at her watch, she had thirty-one minutes and counting to have the security firewall upgrades on Owen Burnett’s desk. Wasting no time, she picked up the micro-disk (which looked like a miniature CD), and dashed out. She flashed her ID card, which was pinned on her lapel, to the security guards before stepping into the private elevator up to the Great Hall of Castle Wyvern. When the elevator doors chimed open, her breath was taken away.

The hall itself was huge. It took on a modern feel while still keeping its medieval aspects in tact. There were two suits of armor on display, one on each side of a huge pair of doors that no doubt led to the rest of the castle. A huge tapestry hung on display to the left, and on the dais was a large desk with on interesting chair tucked behind it in front of the large fireplace.

She suddenly jerked around to meet a pair of surprised, or more like shocked, ice blue eyes. Her stomach had jumped and all her senses were aware of some kind of "presence" lurking nearby that had caused her to jerk around towards it in alarm. It was Owen Burnett who now stared at her with open curiosity. Why had her senses alerted her of him so strongly?

Xanatos’ butler/manservant was responding to an unexpected "guest" alert in the Great Hall. Of course he wasn’t expecting it to be someone who’d make the Puck’s magical senses go immediately on guard. Thinking the feeling was set off by something less than friendly, Owen had silently taken the secret passage, Demona had once used with the city of stone incident, to catch whoever it was off guard by coming out from behind the 12^th century tapestry in the Great Hall. Whom he saw to be the intruder completely caught him off guard, Anea Yolen.

The ever-consummate trickster’s stoic mask slipped as he allowed curiosity to take over. Clearly, there was something….. preternatural about Ms. Yolen. From the way her eyes never left his he could’ve sword to the Gods themselves that she knew who he really was, but that was certainly near the impossible. Even the Queen of the Third Race almost mistook him for just another mortal when he applied for a position in Cyberbiotics, and she was fey who would make a formidable opponent for Lord Oberon himself if so was her wish. Now he was certain that Ms. Yolen was not a mere mortal.

In that moment he didn’t see curiosity mirrored on her face but fear was closer to what emotion she portrayed. Neither said a word for what seemed ages when Anea broke the silence.

"Um, Mr. Burnett, I, uh," she floundered, but her eyes never left his. She stood quiet for a moment more before speaking. "I was going to drop off the security firewall upgrades you specifically requested to be brought to your hands personally." Anea walked up to him and passed off the small transparent box in which the micro-disk was enclosed. "If you’ll excuse me Mr. Burnett, I’m behind in my work. Good day to you."

Suddenly Owen felt compelled to say, "Who really are you? What are you hiding?" but these words lodged in his throat. Instead the words, "Might I have a moment with you, Ms. Yolen?" came out of his mouth just as Anea was going to step into the elevator.

Anea turned and let the door shut behind her as she walked hesitantly back towards Owen. "Yes Mr. Burnett?" she answered, attempting to keep her voice steady.

Owen swallowed discreetly. "On the 20^th of November there will be a pre-Thanksgiving gala here in the castle’s ballroom beginning promptly at seven, for New York’s elite if you will. Will you be in attendance?"

Anea was completely caught off guard. She, along with other important people in the company, had received an invitation on her desk only the say before. She’d hardly expected Xanatos’ majordomo to ask if she was going. Anea honestly didn’t plan on going. "I suppose, though I’m not certain I’m going yet." Who was she kidding? It was only a few days away. "Well, I’d best be going. Good day Mr. Burnett." Before anything else could be said, Anea was covered from sight by the closing elevator doors.

Xanatos’ Executive Assistant remained standing in the center of the Great Hall, not sure what had just happened between Ms. Yolen and himself. Either eternal banishment finally taking its toll or had he caught a mere sensation of….. power in this mortal? Only his "alter ego" must’ve allowed him to pick it up. He’d caught wind of something when he’d interviewed her for the position of systems analyst. Seeing it again, he was positive. Ms. Anea Yolen, for some reason or other, had a decent amount of magical energy. Owen didn’t think it was enough to draw Lord Oberon’s attentions, gods forbid, but it wasn’t something to just let go unexplored.

The phenomenon had occurred in some other humans he’d known, and most of ten manifested itself in the talent of Sight, the ability to "see beyond" the physical. He suspected that is how it manifested itself in her, and was perhaps why she’d reacted so quickly and nervously to his presence. Though, it was apparent she didn’t trust anyone with the knowledge of what her true capabilities were…… yet.

Owen made his way out of the Great Hall. He pursed his lips together thoughtfully. Perhaps there was a slim chance he could find out something more about the limits of her abilities if he researched her parentage. The fact that she was born overseas would prove to add to the difficulty, but he could handle a challenge. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could wheedle another student out of Oberon, and thus more chance to use his long-dormant powers. His expression suddenly grew hopeful, Owen Burnett’s heart did something he hadn’t expected, it skipped a beat. The stoic manservant paused a moment to recollect himself. Maybe eternal banishment from his homeland and kin was taking its toll.

That thought taunted him as he took a seat behind his own office desk, and turned his computer’s monitor on. The blond majordomo let his gaze drift around his office, as if seeing it through different eyes. The images of his impeccably immaculate office and spotless desk inexplicably annoyed him. There had been a time when such privacy and cleanliness wouldn’t have bothered him in the least, but now, he wasn’t so certain. Now, however, his enforced mortality left him vulnerable to mortal flaws—and right now he felt unbearably alone.

******

A fiery-haired woman leaned forward to a newly revealed beside a space age looking door, and allowed the red laser beams of the retinal scanner to do their work. A second later, she backed away as a warning tone sounded and the magnetic locks on the final door clacked open. Much more thick and air-tight than both of its predecessors, the final door split into three trapezoidal pieces-one disappearing into the ceiling, the other two sliding to either side—and revealed the, "Special Projects Division," which lay beyond them. Once she strode confidently into the cavernous space, its size closely resembling a football field, Dominique Destine surveyed her secret laboratories 16 sub-basements below the Nightstone Unlimited building.

The labs soared about six stories high before the walls arched together into a domed ceiling. Five levels of balconies ran around the room, beyond them were the windows of countless branching offices as well as laboratories, effectively making the main room seem to be the central courtyard of large office building. And bustling about everywhere in the complex, which was cluttered with partitions and machinery, each one dressed in a spotlessly clean white lab coat, were dozens and dozens of people.

"Ah, Ms. Destine, right on time as always," said a cheery, cultured male voice. A small man with a short, scruffy beard hurrying towards the female CEO, his unbuttoned lab coat trailing behind him.

"Dr. Bateson," replied Dominique, nodding as the man came to a stop a respectful distance away. He wore jeans and worn pair of sneakers—a definite change from the finely tailored suits and patent leather shoes of the top-level employees above ground level. "How have things been going since my last visit, Doctor?"

Dominique followed the doctor as he spoke, all the while observing the man projects going on around her. In a clean room technicians polished a huge circular mirror, another team o technicians preparing a small jet engine for test firing. Across the room still another team was shooting bright red pulses of laser fire at a sample of some type of invincible metal alloy while one of the team diligently recorded the results.

"I estimate that the prototype will be ready for final testing within a few days’ time," Dr. Bateman concluded, closing the door behind Dominique of the windowless room they’d just entered. Computers and other machinery lined the walls, and in the center of the room was a circular platform about ten feet in diameter, empty at the moment, with various tubes and cables dangling above it which ran back the machinery lining the walls.

"Greetings, Ms. Destine," a sharply dressed woman in an immaculate lab coat said, also stopping at a respectful eight feet when she came forward to acknowledge Dominique’s presence.

"Enough chit-chat Dr. Lanel. Let me see the prototype," Dominique said, impatience seeping into her cold tone. No one reacted but instead proceeded to scurry about the room and brought various systems online. The fiery-haired woman with sharp green eyes smothered a yawn as Dr. Lanel entered a series of final commands, which caused the circular platform to rise moments later. The large open-sided cylinder stopped a minute later; an oddly shaped object covered by a white cloth was wholly visible.

Dr. Bateman grabbed the white sheet and said in the dramatic voice possible, "Presented for your approval, the Valkyrie Harpy." There was rustle of cloth as the object’s covering fell to the floor revealing the reason for Ms. Destine’s wide predatory smile. The owner of Nightstone Unlimited slowly walked around the platform to admire the artificially intelligent machine standing before her.

"A vast improvement over the Steel Clan, wouldn’t you say doctors?" Dominique grinned evilly, which was enough to send a shiver down anyone’s back.

******

Black backpack slung over his shoulder, Conners casually slipped into a warehouse on the East River waterfront marked 12B. Dingy and unsanitary from the outside, the interior was complete contrast. Oriental rugs decorated the interior once Conners made it through the tremendous maze of crates piled almost as high as the ceiling. The furniture in the inner sanctum was tastefully Victorian and comfortable.

Opposite from where Conners stood was a burgundy upholstered wing-backed chair facing away in such an angle that he couldn’t see its occupant, save only for his thickly muscled arms resting on the arms of the chair (which already bore signs of shredding).

"What do you have for me Conners?" His deep voice, like stone and velvet, was strong and penetrating as ever.

"A report which will make for most interesting reading, in my opinion." Conners diligently set the data gathered during his vigil of the Yolen household on the small cherry wood table just beside his employer’s forearm.

"Where is she now?" his employer’s voice rumbled, a taint of impatience in his voice.

"She works an eight to five shift Mondays through Fridays, and never goes out for lunch hour which is from eleven thirty to twelve thirty each working day. I also did a little internet "research" on my way here. It seems out competitors has Maxwell Emanuel Reyman living there under the name Ray Eugene Manning, whom might I add doesn’t cover his tracks very well," Conners reported, a tinge of pride in his light-hearted tone.

"I see my money hadn’t been wasted on you Conners. My "old friend" paid our Ms. Yolen a visit didn’t she?" Conner’s benefactor continued.

"Eleven to eleven thirty, sir. My take on her motives is she wants followed. Otherwise, why go through the trouble the trouble of playing the ghost of Christmas yet to come to our little Ms. Cratchet?" the hired hand commented.

"You’re most certainly right, Conners. In the most inner regions of her subconscious mind, Demona harbors a sentimental fool no matter how much she’d deny it. Her hatred will be her downfall no matter which way you look at it." On another note, "Did you contact out wolf in sheep’s clothing?"

"Affirmative, sir. Dominique Destine’s pet project is going to be delivered to us complete with a "How to.." manual," answered Conners. The hireling glanced at his watch. "Anea should be home from work in a half an hour, depending on traffic delays. I should be going. Will there be anything else sir?"

Yes. Keep an eye on Demona’s little stooge. If he becomes too much of a risk, terminate him." Conners’ employer’s voice was as cold as the polar ice caps. Conners nodded once in acknowledgement and turned to leave when, "Oh, and Conners? I want you at that Thanksgiving gala my dear father is holding."

"Yes sir," and then Conners was gone.

The enemy of many turned his head toward the high windows of the warehouse, looking out at the star-studded night. In the dim glow of a single lamp the hair of the room’s single occupant, once long and thick but now cropped, seemed to glow in stark contrast to his dark skin. Though large patches of burn scars still peppered his dark ebony hide even after weeks of stone sleep, he was still an imposing figure. Wearing his newly polished armor nearly drew all attention away from the tattered ruin of his wings. The webbing between the framework that was almost all in tact save for the lowest extremes, which hung in ragged shreds, the framework itself in less than decent shape. Gliding wouldn’t be done unless absolutely necessary.

He finally stood from his seat, red eyes looking out at the world with an arrogant, dangerous confidence and calculation. Alone, Thailog stared up at the long since dark night sky, where scattered clouds were swiftly moving across to blot out the stars.

******

Anea glances at her watch, 6:15. Traffic in Manhattan was certainly a force to be reckoned with. The elevator doors slid open and she automatically went to her door.

"Ms. Yolen!" At the still unfamiliar voice behind her, Anea jerked around with a startled, "Oh!"

"Whoa, calm down. It’s me, Ray Manning from this morning. I’m sorry I keep scaring you half to death," he said with an apologetic smile.

Her heart returned to its place as she willed herself to remain calm around this man, something she knew was impossible with Ray. He was something her instinct told her to keep at a safe distance away if not more. "Mr. Manning I—"

"About that chat. Maybe we can have an informal dinner tonight. I don’t think anyone likes to cook when they get home work," he offered.

Anea thought she’s gasp in alarm. "No thank you Mr. Manning—"

"Call me Ray."

"Ray, I think I must decline. I’m too tired to go out anywhere. I’m sorry." He had the gull to look disappointed. When she opened her door he was right behind her.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Yes, I do mind. I’m sorry if I sound rude but I rarely make any friends. I’m sort of a loner and—"

"Pity," he said, his eyes never leaving her face. "I envy whoever as the privilege of being close to you." Ray was so close she could feel his breath on her lips. Anea shuddered inwardly.

"Mr. Manning, please. I like to keep to myself and have no interest in being anything more than your neighbor. Goodnight," Anea said forcefully, shutting her front door in his face once she was safely inside.

Reyman stood there, shocked. What’s happened? He was pushing his advantages but time was a luxury he didn’t have. Ms. Destine would be displeased if he failed to produce that new gargoyle. Anea’s rejection confirmed the fact that she was hiding something, something he wanted. New strategies of obtaining Anea’s trust brewing in his mind, Reyman retreated to the elevator bound for the building’s parking lot.

******

Anea collapsed on her black sofa 45 minutes later and groped for the television’s remote. Turning it on, the channel was already on the local seven-o’-clock news. Hmm, crime rate in Central Park was down. A witness was being interviewed. "It swooped down from the sky. If we wouldn’t have run, it would’ve maimed us next!" the woman shouted frantically. The camera focused on the news anchor.

"As you can see, these gargoyle monsters have to be stopped. Back to you Rick."

"Thank you Greg," began the anchor in the studio. "Here in the studio we have author and professor Lennox MacDuff. Mr. MacDuff, what is your opinion on these monsters." The camera zoomed out to include a broad-shouldered, bearded man with steely gray eyes.

"First of all Mr. Garrison, gargoyles are not monsters. People fear what they dunna understand. It’s human nature. People say gargoyles are monsters only because they’re different, and it’s a narrow-minded point-of-view," the Professor said in a thick Scottish Brogue. Anea completely agreed.

"So you’re saying we need to get to know them better even when they’re harassing innocent citizens?" the news anchor said.

"They aren’t harassing anyone, sirrah. Even the blind can see that the gargoyles are protecting the citizens, not hurting them," countered MacDuff with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. The anchor turned to the camera.

"Well folks, as you’re seen for yourselves everyone has a different point-of-view on the gargoyles issue. We’ll hear more from Mr. MacDuff in a moment. Now in other news….."

Anea lowered the volume and stood from her comfortable seat to walk over to the glass doors leading to her patio. The night was clear except for a few clouds rolling across the dark sky. Mind made up; a rhyme flowed from Anea’s lips:

"Someone’s friendship I may make,

Now shall a gargoyle’s shape I take.

In a few moments I will take flight,

As a creature of the night."

In a moment she took on the gargoyle shape known as Maya.

"A local car accident backs traffic up for three city blocks on Houston St. going east. There was one fatality but no injuries. The police have released the name Ray E. Mann--" In the background the television was still heard before it conveniently shut off.

Maya gathered upon the edge of her patio’s railing and leaped off into the night.

******

On patrol together, Broadway and Angela glided through the night sky side by side. They carried on conversation of the activities of their clan’s members, when suddenly woman’s shouts of help broke through the night’s usual quiet.

"Help! Someone! Anyone!" And as they veered closer to the spot in Central Park, "Shut up lady! Gimme your wallet and I won’t hurt you….. much."

Ready for a surprise attack, both gargoyles’ eyes blazed in anger as they growled their disapproval. Just when they swooped down to tackle a group of teenage humans a white streak of color beat them to the mugging. Exchanging glances, Broadway and Angela landed quietly in the branches of a large oak overlooking the scene of the crime.

Maya growled like a wild panther when she landed between the victim and attackers. Wings flaring she grabbed the closest punk by the scruff only to slam him into another punk nearby. Two others ran like the cowards they were.

The silver gargress sighed deeply as her eyes returned to normal. She turned to face a cowering human with a nasty looking cut the length of her jaw.

"Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you," Maya said in her most soothing voice. To illustrate her point she cloaked her wings and kneeled on a knee to extend a hand toward the human. The woman stopped shaking almost instantly and seemed to consider the sincerity of the silver gargoyle’s words. In a moment the woman hesitantly put her hand in Maya’s, and Maya helped her up from the sidewalk with light tug. Their difference in height was so great that the woman to look up at Maya a little to meet the gargoyle’s eyes.

Suddenly the woman let out a nervous laugh. "You’re English," said the woman even more suddenly.

Maya grinned and laughed. "I’m from Newlyn, originally. You sound a bit foreign yourself," Maya replied, smile still on her face.

The human woman smiled also, looking more like a person in her late teens. "My parents were from Paris. I guess I have an accent." They both suddenly grew silent, surprised by how easily they carried a conversation.

"I thought you were monsters running around at night," commented the woman, as she looked Maya over.

"They call us monsters because they don’t understand. Certainly, we’ve different from humans but in the figurative sense, the way we look is only skin deep. We’re just like people. Most of us are good and some are bad," explained Maya.

"Are there any bad ones here?" asked the woman nervously.

Maya shrugged, uncertain. "I am pretty much new to the States, so I don’t know anyone, really."

"But now you know me. I’m Terry Langston," the woman extended her hand in greetings. Maya hesitantly grasped the human’s smaller hand.

"My name is Maya. A sincere pleasure." Terry chuckled with a wide grin.

"You act so human. More than most people I know," said Terry, withdrawing her hand.

There was sudden rustle in the tree above them, too big a rustle to be a squirrel. Terry moved behind Maya when two unfamiliar shapes dropped from the branches above. Upon seeing a certain face Maya growled fiercely as her wings flared.

"We mean no harm," Angela emphasized when Maya growled at her. The silver gargoyle calmed somewhat but her wings remained flared.

"Who are you?" Maya asked coldly, wary of any trickery from Angela. Taken aback by the silver female’s harshly asked question, Angela proceeded hesitantly.

"My name is Angela, and this is Broadway. We were coming to this human’s aid but you arrived before us. We decide to watch from the tree above in hopes of learning more about you. If you’re the Maya Brooklyn described, then we aren’t you enemies," Angela said, trying her best to sound formal the way Princess Catherine had thought her and her siblings.

Maya regarded Angela suspiciously. Angela resembled Demona so much at first glance it put Maya on guard instantly, but then the true sincerity of innocence of Brooklyn set off Maya’s curiosity. Brooklyn did mention an Angela…..

"What do you know of Brooklyn?" the silver gargress asked, a tinge of suspicion in her tone of curiosity.

Angela hesitated but then answered. "He’s part of our clan and—"

"He’s been worried sick about you!" Broadway butted in. Ignoring Angela’s glare he continued. "Brooklyn was ready to take on the Quarrymen himself just for you. Because you made him think those lunatics kidnapped you."

"Broadway!" Angela reprimanded sharply. The large green gargoyle flinched but still maintained the look of determination on his face.

"It’s all right Angela. He only speaks the truth," Maya said seriously, her voice in a tone that people twice her own age had, the painful knowledge of experience all but tangible in that sullen tone. Then to Terry, "You should be getting home Terry."

"You’re right. Even God doesn’t stay up this late." The human turned to Maya, "If you ever need anything, look me up... friend." Terry grinned, and said, "Bye all," before she walked away.

"I’m abjectly sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you," Maya began. "Tell Brooklyn—"

"Why don’t you tell him yourself," Angela offered hopefully. "Come back to our home and meet our clan." At the doubtful glint in Maya’s eye Angela added, "I am certain you will be welcomed."

Maya stared at the lavender female in front of her. To be finally accepted….. it was too good to be true. "I wouldn’t want to impose….."

"No, no! It’s all right, really. You’d be welcomed," Angela insisted. She nudged Broadway. "Isn’t that right my love?"

"Huh—wha--? Oh, yeah! Of course we’d be glad to have you," he replied, absently rubbing the side where his love had "gently" nudged him.

"You can trust us," Angela said softly with a reassuring smile.

"You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it," Maya said in a cold tone, then climbed the nearby oak tree to finally be airborne. Both Angela and Broadway followed but were also dumb founded by the silver gargoyle’s quick change in demeanor.

Wind filled leathery wings as three gargoyles caught warm thermals rising from the modern metropolis of Manhattan below.

Maya felt her stomach clench nervously at the thought of seeing Brooklyn once more. What would he think of her? How would he react? Would he be angry? So many questions reeled through her mind, she was surprised she didn’t crash into come thing.

The silver gargoyle angled her wings as she rose high above Manhattan’s cloudbanks to have her heart jump in her throat, the Eyrie Building.

The ancient castle stood majestically stop the tallest skyscraper on the island. Maya was half expecting trumpets to loudly declare their king’s fanfare from the castle’s turrets as she followed Angela and Broadway into a graceful landing in the courtyard.

Cloaking her wings, she surveyed her surroundings. Broadway went off in search of the rest of the clan while Angela stayed behind to keep vigil over Maya. The silver gargress decided to let her curiosity reign.

"How many are there in your clan, Angela?" The lavender female readily responded.

"Counting Broadway and myself, there are eight members, and we have many good friends."

Maya smiled in return as she admired the picturesque stone gardens, and how well the castle was restored to how it would’ve looked centuries ago. There were some modern conveniences here and there but only some could be seen by the naked eye. She was certain this place was, in all aspects, a fortress.

Loud barking pulled her out of her reverie. Maya turned in time to have a great beast bound to a stop a few feet before her, growling menacingly. Behind the dog-like creature was an old soldier, his gruff exterior reminding her of a grandfather/war veteran. Beside the old warrior was a small olive green gargoyle with webbing connecting his arms to his body much like a bat. The small gargoyle now inquisitively looked her over, curiosity piqued. Unsure on how she would be welcomed, Maya was certain these gargoyles trusted the beast to decide if she was trustworthy or not.

Maya kneeled on one knee and extended her hand towards the doggoyle. Then, a mist only visible to wielders of magic, emanated from her hand. The beast immediately calmed, gave a canine groan of submittence, ad muzzled Maya’s hand before lazily trotting back over to the old soldier’s side.

If Bronx trusts ye lass, then I have no qualms ‘bout his judgement," the elder gargoyle said in his thick Scottish brogue.

Maya stood to face the clan. "Maya, this is Hudson, Bronx, Lexington, and Goliath is probably still in the library. Everyone, this is Brooklyn’s friend Maya," Angela introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you all I’m sure," she greeted, her English accent very prominent.

"You’re English right?" Lexington ventured. Maya nodded. "Do you know any other gargoyles there?"

Maya sullenly nodded no. "Unfortunately, no. I live in one of the rural parts of England so I didn’t see much of anyone either."

"No matter lass," said the old one. "’Tis good ta see another of our kind alive and hale. Welcome ta our home."

Before she had any say in the matter, Maya was bustled into Castle Wyvern with herself as the center of everyone’s attentions…..

….. Including the attention of a certain majordomo. Owen Burnett surveyed the color images being taken from the gargoyles’ room by hidden security cameras.

A new gargoyle….. she couldn’t be from the brood on Avalon for she was English. Somehow, she seemed ridiculously familiar. This "Maya," as it were, was the oddest color he’d ever seen on a gargoyle. Maya, he thought. Owen made a mental note to remember that name for later research for he knew it stood for something.

The blond, bespectacled man zoomed in one the gargoyle of his interest, as she was taken to the gargoyles’ room in the west wing. The gargress carried herself oddly for a gargoyle, he noted. Her tapering tail remained still at all times and didn’t whip from side to side as much as a gargoyle’s should. Each step she took was taken with dancer’s poise and grace, reminding him more and more of a human rather than any gargoyle female he’d seen.

Owen watched as the group entered their west wing room along with their new visitor. There was obviously more to this gargoyle female than met the eye, and he firmly intended to find out how much more.

******

Goliath marked the page he had left off on in one of the many books in Xanatos’ library. Leaving the ancient looking volume on the large table in the center of the castle’s library, the lavender gargoyle leader strode calmly towards the room the clan’s newest ally had fashioned for them. Complete with state-of-the-art entertainment center and more, Xanatos had seen to all their needs, which felt odd based on the fact that little over two years ago the human was doing the same thing only to gain their trust then betray them. The large gargoyle paused just outside his clan’s quarters at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Protective instinct and curiosity drove him to step into the room only to see the unexpected.

Angela was seated on the sofa with another female gargoyle the color of gilt moonbeams. His daughter was chatting enthusiastically with the other gargress, instantly latching onto the only other female of her age and ilk. Broadway was seated beside his mate, more interested in Angela than the newcomer. Young Lexington was seated before the sofa, comfortably leaning forward the clan’s gargoyle beast, Bronx whom dozed quietly on the expensive center rug. His old mentor, Hudson, was seated in his easy chair over looking the younger generation’s animated conversation.

As if on cue, all eyes looked up to the lavender giant standing in the doorway, but Goliath’s eyes remained on the newcomer. "Who are you?"

Tying off a thin braid in the newcomer’s silver gilt hair, Angela slowly stood to address her father. Everyone else followed in suit, and then finally was when the newcomer hesitantly stood also. Though, before Angela could speak the newcomer touched the lavender gargress’ shoulder and stepped forward.

"My name is Maya and I am abjectly sorry if I’ve caused any problems for you or any of your clan," she said in a honey smooth accented tone which reminded him much of Una back in London.

The pure sincerity in her oddly colored blue-violet eyes made Goliath bite back his sharp systematic reply of suspicious questions. For a moment his own words echoed in his mind from the past, "Without trust there can be no clan," but before he could say anything at all another voice filled with astonishment echoed the newcomer’s name behind him.

"Maya?" Brooklyn asked tentatively. For some reason he was afraid she’d bolt, or disappear like the night of their meeting, or somehow produce a laser cannon from somewhere and aim. Instead he heard her breath catch as she stood there like a deer in headlights.

He’d come in from a long glide of thinking; discouraged he hadn’t seen hide nor hair Maya. Stalking towards the clan’s west wing room a familiar sweet scent reached his beak. His hopes soaring, he’d hurried down the hallway only to stop dead in his tracks at the doorway. All the questions whirling in his mind since his and Maya’s first meeting now died in his throat.

"Brooklyn," she said with a hesitant smile. "I wanted to say I am sorry for leaving that night without a trace. I didn’t mean to worry you like I did. I am truly sorry Brooklyn."

"But where’d you go? Sunrise wasn’t even a minute away," Brooklyn asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"That answer will have to wait," Goliath rumbled, indicating towards the brightening horizons beyond the only window in the small room.

Maya suddenly looked stricken. "Sunrise?" she repeated numbly. Then the realization hit her. "I have to go!" she all but ran to the door.

"Wait! You’ll never make it--!" Brooklyn bellowed, throat taut with fear for her, but she was already out the door. Brooklyn moved as quickly as he could after her determined not to lose her again. The rest of the clan followed closely at their second-in-command’s heels.

Maya hurried through the maze of corridors, panic mounting. How could she miss a whole day of work? Covering up alone would make her sweat. Then, there was the Pre-Thanksgiving Gala tomorrow night. Great, as if things weren’t complicated already.

The cool blast of night air that hit her face almost made her hoot for joy. Her pace quickened as she reached the courtyard. Soon enough she reached the outer wall, and in a moment she jumped then leapt into the brightening early morning sky. Faintly behind her she heard Brooklyn desperately call out her name but the sound was promptly carried off by the wind, the first rays of the morning sun peeking over the horizon.

******

Dominique Destine took a healthy swallow of caffeine charged coffee while looking over schematics for Xanatos’ Steel Clan. Her Research and Development team was perfecting an energy gun, which would disable Xanatos’ robots by producing an energy magnetic field.

Smiling to herself, Dominique set down the files in her hand and flicked on the television monitor close by.

"This is Travis Marshall with WVRN News here live at a gruesome accident on Broadway heading north. It appears that the source of the problem was faulty brakes, claiming the life of Ray Eugene Manning—"

Before the newscaster could finish his report, Dominique slammed her fist down on the television’s remote control switching the monitor off.

"No wonder I haven’t heard from the fool in hours," she hissed under her breath, thoughts whirling. That fool Reyman was her most trusting agent, as far as humans went. No matter, with time she’d find a suitable replacement—

~beep~ "Ms. Destine?" came the voice of her assistant, Ms. Channing from the intercom on the corner of Dominique’s desk.

The businesswoman sighed. "I thought I told you I did not want to be disturbed, Ms. Channing," Dominique said in a courteous but annoyed tone.

"Uh-y-yes, I know but this is urgent," the secretary stuttered.

"Proceed," the CEO sighed in resignation.

"Well, Project VH157 never got delivered to our labs above ground Ms. Destine."
Dominique’s temper flared. "What?!" she snapped. This was all she needed!

"It didn’t get delivered this morning, Ms. Destine!" the secretary said hurriedly.

"How can something bot get delivered within a high security building Ms. Channing?!" Dominique all but shouted.

"I don’t know!" was the panicked reply.

Dominique huffed. "Find Project VH157 and fire whatever is responsible for this mess." She snapped off her intercom with a fury. This is unacceptable! Incompetent humans! Now my plans for the siege of Castle Wyvern is set back at least a month!

******

Another voyage to the land of boredom, Owen sighed mentally. Lately it was getting harder to suppress his alternate personality. His eyes wandered to a manila file folder on the far corner of his desk blotter. He reached for it to find its contents to be the suggestions on the upgrades to the Eyrie Building’s security systems, all signed by Xanacorp’s systems analyst, Ms. Yolen.

Owen reached for his electronic planner nearby to find out he was supposed to have a discussion with her on the suggested upgrades at 9:30 that morning. He quickly checked his Rolex, a quarter after already.

Ever since the incident in the Great Hall a day before, he was looking forward to solving the puzzle that was Ms. Yolen. What little research he got done on her background history had only raised more questions. Why had she moved to and from so many cities? Every time she seemed to get situated, with a home and job, she dropped everything and moved. Then there was the matter of her parentage, which was a complete mystery even to the Bristol authorities. She was orphaned even before her first year of life, then adopted and brought up with a proper education along with a loving home by a Mr. & Mrs. Yolen. After her foster parents passed away in an untimely car accident when she was twenty-three, she became a drifter, never growing close to anyone again except for a lengthy engagement, which was broken off before she began moving from city to city. She could’ve been, and still be, running from someone or something. Ms. Yolen was obviously troubled by something….. but what--?

"Excuse me Mr. Burnett?" said the voice of Ms. Chambers.

"Yes? Go on?" he answered crisply over the intercom, calmly but quickly putting the file on Ms. Yolen out of sight.

"Ms. Yolen is here for her 9:30 conference with you. Shall I send her in?"

"Yes, of course," came Owen’s prompt reply. Not a minute later there was a soft knocking at his office door, which oddly enough cause a smile to tug at his lips. He quickly hid it as Ms. Yolen quietly entered. He stood and bid her a polite good morning as she did the same. Soon they were seated and deep into almost incomprehensible techno-babble.

She seemed in her element when dealing with technology and the like, Owen noticed, but once the conversation shifted to a more personal level she became uncomfortable. He mentally calmed himself also for what he was about to suggest.

"Ms. Yolen?" he began, his monotone softening a bit as to not intimidate her. Owen paused a moment, noticing her eyes were a becoming if not unusual shade of blue-violet. He made a mental note to comment on it later.

"Mr. Burnett?" she prompted, now completely on the alert. He broke his gaze from hers enough to feel even more uncomfortable than before.

"Uh, yes, well I was wondering if you were attending the gala tomorrow night." Owen thought she’d fall over like an unbalanced statue at the way she just stared at him, if only for a moment.

"I think so," she replied, her gaze remaining on his, then, "Why do you ask?"

Well, it was now or never. "This might sound impertinent but….. I was hoping for the honor of the first dance, Ms. Yolen." Owen could’ve sworn to the Gods themselves that his heart stopped at that very moment.

Anea was taken aback, rendered speechless at the very least. By the look of his eyes he wasn’t mocking or teasing her but was actually hoping for the first dance. His sincerity was what had caught her off guard, but then suspicion set in. "Why me Mr. Burnett?"

Owen schooled his words carefully, seeing the suspicion in her eyes grow. "I was hoping to finally speak to someone on friendly terms instead of on something business related. My apologies, you must think me too straight forward—"

"No, not at all Mr. Burnett," she quickly said, bet then something saddened in her bright eyes. "It’s been on long time since I’ve really spoken to anyone on a more personal level as well."

"Then….. I shall see you tomorrow night Ms. Yolen?" The manservant once more felt his heart jump to his throat, something that was all too new to him.

After a lengthy pause, she finally answered. "Yes, I’d like that," she replied in her soft English lilt. Then she slowly stood. "Until tomorrow night then, Mr. Burnett."

Owen offered a smile, which he didn’t offer to many. "Until tomorrow night," he said as he saw her out. The blond majordomo ignored the odd look his secretary gave him as he watched Ms. Yolen walk off, and disappear around a corner.

Were there silver highlights in her hair?

Anea ran a hand back through her disheveled inky black mane, which was caught up in a neat silver clasp, as she rushed into her own office. She was lucky she wasn’t late all together.

Dropping her laptop’s satchel on a chair in front of her desk, and switched on her computer terminal. She suddenly froze in place as the monitor slowly faded into focus. Anea swiftly switched the monitor off to stare at her reflection.

Her black hair had silver streaks running back from her temples and forehead, and her eyes were their natural shade of blue-violet. Had Owen noticed?!

Well he didn’t comment on anything but still….. ahh, no matter. She mumbled a short rhyme and her appearance returned to the normal human features of Anea Yolen.

Sighing with relief, Anea turned on her monitor once more and began to work, oddly looking forward to the nights ahead.

******

~brrrrp~….. ~brrrrp~….. ~brrrr--~ "Yes?" answered a deep bass voice.

Conners kept his eyes on the rain-slicked Manhattan read as he spoke to his employer. "Reyman has been taken care of, sir."

The deep voice rumbled in a sinister chuckled. "Ah yes, Reyman. He made the eight o’clock news last night."

Conners allowed himself a small smile. "Ah sir. Were the Valkyrie Harpy prototypes delivered to the warehouse?"

"Yes. A job well done Conners. I take it you’re going to get familiar with the voice controls of the Valkyries soon enough?"

"I’m on my way there now." Conners glanced at his watch. IF his employer was awake then so were the gargoyles. "Anea—or should I say, "Maya," is probably on her way to the castle."

"This could prove a problem. With our luck Goliath will probably risk his clan and life in an attempt to save her," his voice was more than tinged with distaste.

"That’s why I prefer to make my move tomorrow night at the gala, sir. Everyone will be off guard and out targets will be easy prey. My source at Xanacorp says that the two lovebirds were going to meet up at the party. If I were Burnett I’d get some time with her alone out on one of ballroom’s balconies."

"Pardon? Is my hearing failing me….. did I hear you say "lovebirds"?" A chuckle rumbled through the earpiece. "Are you saying that there might be a chance ice water doesn’t run through his veins after all?"

"Looks like it. Currently, everything seems to be going according to plan. Expect me in the next fifteen minutes."

"All right. Everything needs to be ready tomorrow night."

******

Owen Burnett stood silently in a hidden doorway of a long forgotten corridor of the castle, concealed by the shadows. He had looked on as the clan broke out of their stone shells on the highest tower of Wyvern. The new gargoyle, Maya had not stayed the day but he was certain that she could return.

Maya….. the name itself was the name of the goddess of magic spells and illusion in Hindu lore. He knew this was no ordinary wandering gargoyle from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.

The majordomo retreated to the inner hallways of Wyvern, with the possibilities of whom this new player in the game might be scrolling through his mind. The oddest thing was that she seemed unusually familiar to him, it was almost uncanny. This Maya couldn’t be an errant Child of Oberon; at least, he didn’t think any of his cousins were that ignorant to Oberon’s temper.

As he entered his office his mind was set on finding out who, or what, this Maya really was. Giving the baby monitor on his desk a side-glance, Owen began on some company mergers with a deadline tomorrow morning.

******

Butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Maya swiftly glided towards Castle Wyvern. She gracefully swooped downward to lightly touch down on one of the large courtyards, planning to take a scenic route to the gargoyles’ room.

Cloaking her velvety about her shoulders, Maya hesitantly wandered inside one of the closest hallways and down a corridor. Her eyes adjusted easily to the dimly lighted hallway, and then adjusted again the brightness of another corridor she turned and walked through.

This one seem to be used frequently for it was clean and adorned with little baubles probably worth more than her own life. Exquisite tapestries hung down over large portions of the high-rising walls. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see the Mona Lisa hung over the commode in a bathroom!

Maya nearly jumped five feet in the air when a blue ball bounced out of an open door to a room she was about to walk past. The light-blue sphere rebounded off the wall in front of the open door, and rolled to a slow stop at her taloned feet.

Curious, the silver gargress lowered a bit to pick it up and then stood once more to inspect her find. What was a ball--?

"Ba’!" exclaimed a child’s voice from within the room. Alarmed, Maya’s head jerked up to see a toddler standing on wobbly legs in a play pen while trying to reach over the much taller play pen wall. He didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the fact that she wasn’t human while he once again exclaimed, "Ba!" with a wide grin.

Maya figured him to be David and Fox Xanatos’ son, taking into consideration the toddler’s striking green eyes, fiery orange-red curls, and skin, which bordered on a light tan and fair shaded tone.

As she stood in the nursery’s doorway the child waved his chubby arms, as much as he could over the high playpen’s wall, beckoning for the ball. Then his eyes looked at her plaintively, reaching in vain for his "ba." Finally, he looked at her once more and said, "Toss it ba’?"

She suddenly let out a laugh and looked at the ball in her hand, then back at the kid. She’d always adored children, and they seemed to like her as well. Maya didn’t know if it was because they always could see through her illusions, or if it was just unexplainable.

Seeing the impending tears in the Child’s eyes she walked over, and carefully stooped beside the playpen as to not scare the child while she handed him the ball. Maya watched as the child plopped down on his diapered rump to play with the ball.

"’S my ba’," the child commented with a frankness only children have. He held it out to her saying, "Wanna see?"

She smiled faintly and complied. "Thank the Lord you’re not the "koo-chi-koo" kind," she said softly, handing the ball back to him. The toddler burst out giggling and pointed a chubby finger at her.

"U fun!" he giggled then mimicked, "koo-chi-koo," in an exaggerated accent that was obviously a vain attempt at sounding like her own.

Maya grossed her arms over her chest in mock indignation given away by her smile. "I’m being made fun of by a toddler!" she said, her accent making him giggle even more. She lifted a "brow" with a faint smile before standing.

The child immediately stopped his breathless laughter to stare up at her. "Who you?" he asked, looking as if he’d just realized she was a total stranger.

"My name is Pyper—" she started with a soft smile but immediately clamped her mouth shut. Then she decided to shrug it off. What harm could telling this child her real name be? "—and what might yours be?"

"Alessanda," he answered bashfully.

"Well Master Alex, it has been quite a pleasure making your acquaintance," she inclined in a semi-formal bow. Alex giggled.

"Hello," he dropped the ball and stretched his little arms out to her. "Up?" he asked hopefully.

Maya suddenly looked unsure and backed away a step. "Uh-um, Alex I-um-" she stuttered.

"Up?" he asked once more, eyes rimming with tears.

Maya clucked her tongue softly with a groan of resignation as she scooped the child up as if he was made of glass. "Why do children have to be so fragile?" she whispered to no one in particular while Alex made himself comfortable with her shoulder as a pillow. He snuggled in closer, and she took that moment to try shifting her hands away from his exposed limbs, afraid she might inadvertently harm him. After a few silent moments she gently leaned her head against his own while humming a soft melody from a wordless song she heard as a child. In a voice that was deeper and richer than her normal tone, Alexander soon grew limp in her arms as he fell into a comfortable slumber.

Finishing in a near whisper, Maya gently tucked Alexander into his cradle. She quietly made her way out of the nursery, closing the door gently behind herself.

******

"I can’t say I’m thrilled with a total stranger, especially a gargoyle, handling my only child unsupervised Owen," David Xanatos said coolly, his eyes shifting to another monitor as this "Pyper" widely stretched out her wings in the hallway just outside the nursery with a resounding groan of relief.

At first sight of this unknown gargoyle in the same room with his son, her was tempted to activate the Steel Clan but then had held off when the unknown female didn’t look the least bit harmful towards Alex. He aptly followed the conversation she had with his son, and even found the lullaby she sung quite soothing. Nonetheless, his assistant owed him an explanation.

"Neither am I, Mr. Xanatos," he began while adjusting his glasses. "However, one of the first magic spells I cast over Alexander alerts me the instance he feels threatened or his life is in danger, and quite frankly Mr. Xanatos I felt he was at peace with—Pyper."

Xanatos raised an eyebrow as he watched Goliath’s Clan take their places on the castle tower’s turrets on one monitor, and Pyper approaching the castle’s outer wall then begin to scale it with great ease. At the same moment she reached the top of the wall the sun’s rays bathed everything in its golden warmth. The gargoyles turned to stone but Pyper….. didn’t.

"She doesn’t turn to stone," Xanatos commented as he watched the silver gargress gracefully glide off into a cloudbank.

"Apparently sir," said Owen monotonously, managing to keep his own surprise from being expressed.

Obviously Xanatos had yet to know that this gargoyle’s name was Maya, but he himself was puzzled at the fact that she’d told Alexander her name was Pyper. This was turning out to be more of a mystery than he had anticipated.

Quietly he excused himself claiming he had a few details to take care of for that night’s Pre-Thanksgiving Gala. As he walked down hallways and corridors towards his office, Owen’s thoughts turned to a lighter note. After all, he did want to be in good spirits for tonight’s engagement.

******

Anea couldn’t believe how quickly the day went, almost as quickly as did the night before. Now she smoothed out her long black velvet dress with hands, clad in elbow length gloves, before climbing the staircase leading into the Eyrie Building.

Owen Burnett stood erect just off tot he side of his employer and Fox holding a squirming Alexander, whom was clan in Armani not unlike his father. In a clean-cut tuxedo himself, the Executive Assistant looked as if he was on the receiving end of royalty.

Personally he detested the faux smiles and brief handshakes. Everyone plotted against everyone else in this world of glitz and glamour. The ballroom might have looked elegant in its Victorian style furnishings but the atmosphere was carefully planned just as was people’s most miniscule actions. Everyone played a part and no one ever showed his or her true colors.

His eyes drifted towards more arriving guests to fall upon a most graceful figure. Anea Yolen was wearing a velvet black ankle-length dress, which was held up around her neck in a golden clasped collar. It, along with her inky black hair piled up in soft curls, worked to her best advantage.

The blond man’s observations were cut short when his eyes suddenly met hers. She seemed a bit alarmed but greeted the Xanatos Family all the same when she looked away. Ms. Yolen spared him another discreet look while passing by. Seeing her intention of sitting at one of the smaller tables off to the side. He politely excused himself from his employer to calmly join Anea.

Anea sat herself down at a round table set for four while a waiter provided plum wine, champagne, and water. As that waiter politely excused himself, another stood near her as if waiting for acknowledgement. She looked up to say "no thank you" to any offerings but instead she stared, words lodged in her throat.

"Mr. Burnett….." was all she could say, feeling like a teenager talking to her first crush. She wasn’t expecting him to look so much more elegant and dignified in his tuxedo. It was embarrassing, and all she did was stand to try and greet him.

"Good evening Ms. Yolen. You look lovely tonight." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Well, they were expected pleasantries, nothing more.

"Uh--" she glanced down then up at him again, "--thank you. Would you care to sit down?" she recovered smoothly. He agreed and they indulged in a bit of small talk, although as this persona he’d never done such a thing, it was….. refreshing.

Soon enough the hired musicians began to play a few classical ballads while some danced and others enjoyed their gourmet dinners. With all the elegant decorations and details like candle light and elaborate bouquets set on each table, it was a very enjoyable evening as was the company.

As their conversation progressed, Owen noticed, Ms. Yolen spoke more freely and decided to seize the opportunity to indulge his curiosity.

"Ms. Yolen, may I ask you a person question?" be began, watching her wine glass pause on the trip to her lips at the word "personal."

She recovered well with a small but easy smile while saying, "Pleasure, call me Anea," in a friendly tone. Then after taking a sip of her plum wine she continued, "Ask what you will and I will do my best to answer, Mr.—"

"Call me Owen. My surname is a slight bit formal."

"Very well then." He slowly stood, holding his flesh hand out to his dinner companion, palm up. She then excepted, placing a gloved hand upon his while gracefully rising from her seat. Owen led her out to the east balcony not too far away.

A lovely crescent moon hung low in the sky, stars glittering and twinkling with a life all their own. A light breeze arose gently rustling the soft curls resting at the nape of her neck.

When Anea turned to him he almost caught his breath. Her skin was that of a porcelain doll’s—no, was it the light of the moon that made her look so unusual? Her skin was a peaches and cream tone with a face and form so perfect, he wondered if she even human.

Gazing deeply into the turquoise depths of her eyes he steeled himself for whatever reaction she might give to his interrogation. "You are aware that XE does a full background check on all its employees, right Ms. Anea?"

He saw her stiffen a bit with apprehension, but she loosened up a moment later in hopes that he hadn’t noticed most probably. "Yes I am," she answered evenly, her hand as still as stone in his,

"Then in our files of your past there are gaps that I would prefer we clarify in a civilized fashion," he intoned quietly, feeling her hand twitch nervously in his while she gazed out over the picturesque cityscape of Manhattan, impassive as ever. In attempts to sooth any troubled nervous she may have his fingers tightened reassuringly around hers.

Anea’s stomach clenched nervously. What could he possibly suspect of her? "I agree. What do you wish to know?" she managed say in an even tone, somewhat comforted by the warmth of his hand around her own.

"Why did you become such a drifter?" He winced inwardly at how blunt that sounded by just blurting it out. She was as still as the Dead Sea at his side. When she finally answered she sounded detached, no doubt remembering something painful but willing it not to affect her.

"After my parents’ death, I felt lost and alone, My life felt like some mundane routine after that, nothing had the same appeal as it did before." Her voice was monotone as she kept on with this long overdue confession. He was no great judge of human nature—then were still a mystery to him and probably always would be. Still, he had lived among them for a respectable length of time, and had enough of a grasp of psychology to know that burying such strong feelings was an unhealthy practice. It was best to just listen….. for now.

Anea’s voice turned ironic. "Then I met Nicholas," she said softly with a find smile. Owen tapped down an unexpected twinge of jealously that suddenly filled him, this was not the time nor place. "He helped me to enjoy life again, he gave me a reason to enjoy the simple pleasures it had to offer. Months afterward he proposed and I accepted, but not long before the wedding he showed his true colors. I no longer knew the Niko I fell in love with. It was as if….. I was engaged to a total stranger….." Her voice had grown soft in emotional pain from a wound inflicted long ago, and sometimes a wound was over an artery. Once opened, the flow kept up thick and dark.

He had been looking at the cityscape, but his head jerked towards Anea’s direction when he heard a sniffle. Crystalline tears slipped down her smooth cheeks and suddenly his hand was there wiping them away with such tenderness that even surprised himself.

No matter how hard she tried Anea couldn’t stop crying. On the contrary, her tears came in rivers accompanied with a wave of sobs. Before she knew it strong arms encircled her, comforting and reassuring. That seemed to trigger even more emotion that just made her wish to be held even more tightly to blot out the gut wrenching feeling in her stomach.

Owen pulled her close, not knowing what else to do but knowing that he could never stand a woman’s tears. His arms wrapped snuggly around Anea, his stone fist at her waist while his hand just below the base of her neck. He closed his eyes, taking in that subtle fragrance of spring blossoms and honeysuckle that always clung to her, his nerves calming somewhat.

Soon her quiet sobbing gradually subsided, the gentle shaking of her shoulders also slowing to a stop. Her breathing steadied a bit as she slowly disengaged herself from his embrace, eyes finally meeting his own after a moment of hesitation.

Once he looked into those glassy eyes he knew he was lost in the moment, and it was these moments that he knew were the most dangerous. It left him open and vulnerable to anything, every emotion, every caress.

His flesh hand crept up to cradle the smooth shelf of her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek. In her expressive eyes he saw uncertainty mingling with thick emotion. Unsure of his actions himself, Owen hesitantly leaned downward not understanding nor caring why this mortal stirred his ancient heart so strongly. She leaned into him, her hands at his shoulders as he—

A sudden piercing pain penetrating his side. Then an all-consuming numbness spread throughout his body and gravity pulled him downward. In the distance he heard his name called in surprise followed by a feminine cry of pain immediately followed by a resounding thump hampered by cloth. While on the floor he heard footsteps in the distance then….. nothingness.

Slipping the small tranquilizer gun into his black blazer’s pocket, Conners stepped out from the shadows of the large balcony. He tapped the silk lapel of his blazer activating a small com-link.

"Valkyrie Harpy Unit 1, priority 1 extraction," he bid in a quiet tone.

Multiple whines of jetpacks filled the air, mostly muffled by the robots’ new design and loud music from the ballroom. Upgraded Steel Clan robots hovered just above the balcony’s level. Metal coils extended from both robots’ right and left arms, curving around both unconscious bodies on the cobblestones, tightening then lifting them easily of the ground. In an instant the robots flew off into the night, attracting no attention at all.

******

Her aching neck was what Anea felt first making her involuntarily flinch. What made her groan was how heavy her whole body felt, it made her feel claustrophobic….. wait, someone was calling her?

"Anea. Anea, are you all right?" asked the steady voice, underlying worry in its hushed tone. "Anea….."

She groaned in response, able to do little else. Bright lights made her keep her eyes tightly closed before slowly opening them. Everything was a blur at first but then everything began to come into focus. Carefully turning her head to the left, wincing slightly, she saw the owner of the voice….. Owen.

He was held captive in a giant cage of some sort, which took up that whole side of the room. The majordomo looked disheveled for the most part; his blazer on the floor along with his tie while his short’s neck and cuffs were undone. He looked as though he’d been pacing around in there for more than an hour, but at the moment all his attention was on her. What emotions his face lacked his eyes made up for. At that moment the look of deep concern in his eyes comforted her like no embrace could have.

"What are you feeling?" His doctoring skills were coming into play. He’d awakened more than an hour before her. The dosage of sedatives was just enough for his system but just the huge difference in body right between them made him worry. There may be a lot of unwanted side effects he’d rather not dwell on.

"I feel heavy….. terrible headache," she managed to whisper. "….. nausea….." Strapped down to a bulky metal chair, she was no doubt prepped for something. She sat facing a one-way mirror under the main lightning of the small room.

He sighed in frustration. Who had done this, and why? The only likely suspect was Demona, but how could she have known enough about him to put him in an iron cage? Has capturing Anea been intentional or not? If so, why--?

"Well, well, well. Happy to see my guests settled comfortably," said a familiar taunting British voice over the speaker in the words. A man walked into the room with short ginger hair and a wicked grin, Sevarious.

"Moonlighting on Demona are you Doctor?" Owen asked dryly, though he noted the look of recognition on Anea’s face.

Sevarious grinned with a few chuckles as he pulled a tray of syringes closer to Anea’s chair. "For purely economic reason, I can assure you Mr. Burnett." He flicked the barrel of the syringe in his hand, knowing the air bubbles out of the clear liquid.

"What are you doing?" Owen asked, alarmed. The Doctor merely grinned as he cleaned a spot on Anea’s upper arm before plunging the needle into her skin. She visibly flinched, unable to do anything else, Owen wagered.

Ignoring Owen’s question he commented, "My employer would like you wide awake for your "initiation." Sevarious then chuckled before walking out, syringe still in hand.

Owen looked on worriedly, watching for any outward changes in Anea. When she began struggling against the straps of her wrists and ankles he relaxed a bit. Sevarious had only injected her with something to combat the sedatives. Now the only question that remained was why were they brought there?

"Hey Pyper," a voice from the doorway greeted. Anea’s head, jerked in that direction to see someone she’d dreaded for years.

"Nicholas," she said softly, not really believing this was real. The strongly built man left the door open as she walked to Anea, iron chains in his hands.

"Don’t look so surprised sweetheart. You know this day would come," he smiled, lifting a hand to caress her cheek, then neck.

"Leave her alone," Owen ordered, staring icicles at Niko. The other man merely grinned while beginning to settle the odd looking chains on Anea, slipping his arms around her once or twice while securing the binds. Once his job was done he reached for the straps holding Anea down and loosened them.

Owen’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Why was he letting her go? Then his eyes dropped to the chains around Anea’s upper body. She had to be a fey of some kind if this Nicholas hoped to keep her from escaping with iron chains, and this Nicholas had to be the Niko Anea was talking about even though she left a lot of gaps in her story. Nicholas also had called her Pyper….. the name Maya have Alexander in the nursery only but a night ago. If Anea were a halfling then she and Maya were one and the same, but if she were only a halfling…..

"Let her go! Iron could kill her in its purest form," he said vehemently, holding the bars of his cage with his flesh hand.

Nicholas looked amused as he answered, "I know. That’s why my dear Pyper here gets a special potpourri blend diluting most of the iron, but leaving enough so that she’ll "cooperate."

While Niko spoke, Owen noticed, Anea was already coming up behind him for an ambush. Niko continued as if nothing, "I see you already found out she can be very soft and trusting. Honestly, I don’t know what she sees in you—OOMF!"

Anea charged at him, knocking him unconscious when he hit the bars of the cage hard. She moved quickly to stand in front of the cage’s door, putting her hands on the lock. It began to glow a dark blue-violet color but then it faded back to normal.

"Fey magic cannot have any effect on iron," he said hurriedly. Suddenly an alarm sounded, footsteps stampeding down the corridor. Anea gasped and jerked around to face them as the came in. In an instant she hit them all with blue-violet energy, and they all slumped to the ground, asleep.

She finished all of them in a hurried pace and came back to the cage with the keys to the lock. In a moment he was free, armed with a laser rifle he said his thoughts aloud for Anea’s benefit.

"This wasn’t a response team, or else they would not have had the keys. Something else must’ve set the alarms off."

"We have to get out of here?" Anea said worriedly. Owen nodded and hooked his left arm around her waist, pulling her over an unconscious body and out of the room.

Cautiously, they made their way down the lone corridor and stopped at a corner to peer around out for any enemies. Seeing none, they turned down that hallway hoping for a way out. When they turned down another corridor they were almost bowled over by—

"Brooklyn!" Anea exclaimed before she could keep her mouth shut. The blue gargoyle hound, Bronx, barked happily at the dark-haired human female. Looks as if he’s forgiven me for that teensy spell last time, Anea thought with a small smile.

The red beaked gargoyle looked at her strangely but then turned to Owen. "we’ve been all over the place looking for you two! Xanatos’ll explain later. C’mon!"

Owen spared Anea a comforting look before following Goliath’s second. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Anea followed in suit.

Owen inwardly pitied Anea. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do, and he doubted Goliath’s clan would be as understanding as he.

Suddenly, red flashes flew by his head. Reflects kicking in, he jerked around and shot cover fire as Anea quickly took refuge behind him. Brooklyn grabbed Owen’s shoulder and told him the directions to the roof before jumping into the mob of guards, Bronx close behind them both.

Without a second thought Owen firmly grasped Anea’s shoulder and pulled her with him as he rounded a corner. She jerked out of his grip so suddenly that it made the rifle he had slung ver his shoulder slide down his arm. He met her accusing glare with one of his own.

"We cannot just leave them there!" she shouted over the loud alarms, which sounded as if a reactor were going into meltdown.

"They can take care of themselves, but we need to get out of here," he replied firmly if rather loudly. "Just in case you have forgotten, this is our rescue." That earned him a sour look.

"But security guards will be all over him in mere seconds!"

"You are coming with me even if I have to—" He let out an agonizing cry as pain lanced through his shoulder and he fell forward. More laser fire followed as pain clouded his vision. He felt himself be picked up after a bright blue-violet flash, and then there was a mad dash down the corridor and then into some place dark. A door slammed behind him and his rescuer.

My luck is out, Maya thought as she took in her surroundings. It appeared to be some carpeted office with Victorian furniture done in cherry wood. Shadows covered everything else from view. Hearing boots stampede down the corridor outside, Maya rushed to hide in a dark shadow, one of many, against a wall.

Owen groaned in her arms, signs of him coming to consciousness. She let him down but stood him up against the wall behind them and stretched her wings around herself and Owen, hoping their backs could camouflage them in the shadows.

Maya relaxed slightly against Owen, silently worrying about the wound at the back of his shoulder. There could be countless complications if it wasn’t tended to quickly. No doubt he had just as many questions for her, each as hard as the next. She was sure it didn’t matter what she did now, the deed was already done—

The door slowly opened as someone strode in—no, not someone, something, a gargoyle of sorts, obviously male by its gargantuan standing. Maya could’ve sworn he was Goliath’s twin; except for the blood red eyes, white hair, and ebon skin. He looked like he’s been through hell—literally. There were blotches of pink skin, which had yet to heal over the great span of his chest, and forearms as well as hands. By the carriage of his head he looked as if he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

Owen suddenly groaned quietly, moving as well as he blinked to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Those eyes widened at the sight of the male gargoyle.

The creature’s head immediately jerked to Maya/Owen’s hiding place, a growl building in his throat. Before his eye slit his growling, and he seemed to be sniffing then inhaling the air. "Who’s there?"

It was more a demand than a question. Either way she didn’t want to answer. Suddenly Owen’s voice was soft in her ear. "Gargoyle females give off certain scents which tell them apart from males at a distance. He knows you’re here."

Maya nodded and slowly pulled away from Owen, moving towards the male gargoyle while having an odd sense of dèja vu.

Thailog sharply inhaled at what he saw next. He had seen photos of his quarry but he admitted they did her no justice. His deep, rumbling chuckle filled the room, his white fanged grin standing out like a beacon in the dark. "Ahh, a silver angel come to redeem me."

"No, you’re a lost cause and forever damned for making my life a living hell." Thailog chuckled. He had to admit she was a spirited little thing.

Owen blinked at how foreign swearing sounded from someone as timid as Anea Yolen was, or should he say Maya?

A sudden more on his part caused him to hiss at the pain lancing through his shoulder, reminding him of his mortality as Owen Burnett. The wound would have complications if not tended to quickly.

Suddenly a familiar chorus of roars and growls echoed through the hallways just outside the office doors. All present looked at the entrance to the room and—CRASH! Half of Goliath’s clan came crashing through followed by the other half, all growling louder at the sight of Thailog.

Surprisingly, Goliath’s clone just laughed maniacally making everyone even more wary than before. The clan exchanged uncertain glances as Maya went over and kneeled at Owen’s side, where the majordomo had fallen to his knees from the dizzying pain at his shoulder.

"You’re all FOOLS!" the ebon clone exclaimed with a huge, triumphant grin. The clone’s hand fell on the corner of the desk behind him pressing a button. Doors lid open at both sides of the room and the new and improved Steel Clan emerged, their lasers trained on everyone there except for their master.

"You’re benefactor has left his most precious belonging unguarded and for the taking." Upon his words, Thailog strolled arrogantly out one of the side entrances, the door sliding closed behind him.

Not knowing how to beat this Steel Clan when clearly outnumbered, Goliath’s clan stood their ground as Maya remained protectively at Owen’s side.

"Precious belonging? Father, what did he mean?" Angela fretted, casting a worried look towards Goliath.

"I don’t—" Goliath began but was cut off.

Maya gasped as she stood and stepped back in surprise. Owen Burnett was no more. In his place was a pointy-eared sprite with an unruly mane of chalky-white hair going down below his shoulders, and he was dressed in deep reds, rich purples, and golden trim which made up his medieval court garb.

The sprite had tumbled at his sudden appearance but regained his balance, and flung his long white hair out of his eyes. Owen’s ice blue eyes looked up at Maya just before he began hovering, a fearful expression on his humored features.

As quickly as it came the fear on the sprite’s face dissolved into one of exasperation. "We have no time for this," and upon his words green bolts emanating from him struck out at the robots causing them to all fall to pieces in piles of rusted metal.

"Everyone, time get back to the castle ASAP!" In a bright green flash all the gargoyles disappeared along with the sprite, leaving the room empty—

Seconds later a very angry Nicholas Conners burst into the room followed by building security. "Shut off those damn alarms!" he threw over his shoulder, his mood darkening every second and the huge goose egg of a bump on his forehead wasn’t helping.

He watched his men inspect the scrap metal on the floor as he muttered, "Shit," under his breath. "The boss is not going to like this."

******

Confused gargoyles and a very startled Maya looked around at first to get their bearings. They were in the castle nursery, or at least what was left of it.

The cradle was laying on its side, blankets in disarray and child’s toys strewn around the room. It looked as if a hurricane rampaged through the room leaving destruction in its wake. The double doors of the nursery were thrown open as if someone had crashed through them, and the windows of the room were shattered.

A grief-stricken Maya kneeled beside the fallen cradle, a taloned hand picking up Alex’s favorite gar-bear. Her voice wavered as she said, "Why would anyone do this?"

Lexington piped up. "I’ll check the security cameras and see what happened." Puck nodded and Lex scurried off to the security room.

Goliath, along with Hudson, Angela and Broadway immediately set out to find Xanatos and Fox as well as some sign of who took Alex.

Brooklyn stood beside Maya and offered his hand. Her eyes were filled with fear and grief when they met his dark brown ones. The silver gargress accepted it and stood beside him while leaving the gar-bear on the floor.

"Here let me….." the red gargoyle offered, wrapping his talons around her iron chains and snapping them with little effort. They fell to the floor with a sharp clang. He then sighed heavily as if trying to tap down mounting anger. "You’re one of them," he said vehemently.

"One of wh--? What are talking about?" Maya asked, puzzled.

"Who is she Puck?" Brooklyn shouted at the trickster hovering nearby, whom was aptly watching the exchange before this outburst. "One of-of your sisters?!" the beaked gargoyle stuttered, all the resentment and anger he felt gushing out like water from a dam.

The trickster zipped about agilely, a grin plastered across his face. "Of course not! This isn’t some Greek tragedy!" The white-haired sprite lazily coasted about, any worry he might have felt not showing at all.

"Sister? Puck? Wha—uh, quiet both of you!" Maya raised her voice, making the gargoyle and fey stop dead in their tracks.

"We will, after we get some answers from you Maya or whatever your name is!!" Brooklyn all but growled.

Puck grinned evilly. "I can turn him into a toad if you’d like. The Puck is always quick to defend the honor of a lady."

"Turn me into a toad and I’ll turn you into fish bait you little sugar plum fair wannabe!" Brooklyn growled back.

"Hey--!" Puck began indignantly but he swallowed his quick retort at Maya’s shout.

"Quiet! The both of you, please!" Maya opened her mouth to say something else but was interrupted by an insistent beep from a nearby computer council on a wall.

Puck zipped over to snap on the monitor. An image of Lexington appeared on the screen. "I think all of you should come down and take a look at this."

******

Maya’s tail swished nervously as they stood in the security room in the castle. Goliath, Angela, Hudson, and Bronx had returned with the Xanatoses, which were wearing exo-suits and very worried. After told of what had happened Xanatos’ expression of revenge surprised them all as did Fox’s burst of tears. Everyone examined Alex’s abduction but remained dually confused. No mercenaries, no giant fey kings, but….. Ms. Vivian Chambers, Owen’s secretary.

From then on the whole group went into a huge commotion, everyone stating their ideas all at once. Maya watched from the shadows a safe distance away, going unnoticed. She caught a sudden movement towards the door and looked to see a familiar brick red gargoyle slink out the room’s entrance. Curious, Maya followed Brooklyn out the door while taking care of not being noticed either.

Little did she know Puck had noticed both their exits and chose to follow, knowing that no one would miss his presence.

A little way down the hallway Maya called Brooklyn by name and got his attention.

"What do you want?" he asked, not too nicely either considering he almost growled the question.

"Brooklyn I--*sigh* please don’t be angry with me."

"It’s a little too late for that," he said, eyes flashing as he began to turn and walk away.

"Where are you going?" she suddenly asked, grabbing his forearm, which turned him back towards her. She immediately let go when he stared at her hand as if it was the plague.

"To try and find Alex while the others run around like chickens with their heads but off."

"Then let me come along at least." At his skeptical glare she continued, "I can be very helpful," and at that moment her black velvet gown changed into her customary jeans, linen blouse, and vest in which Brooklyn came to know her in.

The red gargoyle’s eyes grew tired as he gave out a long sigh. "Nothing is what it seems any more. Not your kind, not anyone."

"Thought is real, physical is the illusion," she quoted cryptically, then faintly smiled. "No matter what form I take, may it be human or gargoyle, I will always be the same person you first met Brooklyn. What I am may change but who I am will remain forever constant."

Goliath’s second looked at the lovely gargress in front of him, seemingly weighing his decision. Then a spark of hope lit his dark chocolate eyes. He suddenly did something unexpected, he hesitantly caressed the smooth shelf of her jaw while saying softly, "All right. I understand," then he slowly withdrew his hand while saying, "But you still owe me, and the others, an explanation," in a firm but gentle tone.

"Oh PLEASE!" said a familiar voice. Then, "You two don’t really expect to find the kid without moi, do you?" said the voice as the trickster Puck faded into existence beside Maya while sporting a huge grin.

"Should we ever be so lucky," grumbled Brooklyn but was ignored while Maya spoke.

"The first time I met Alex I saw a sort of magical field all about him, stronger than I’ve ever seen. If you did cast a ward over him, as I suspect, maybe you can trace it and let it act like a homing beacon," Maya suggested.

Puck grinned slyly as he took on a look of consideration while stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Not bad, not bad at all." The fey coasted about in mid-air. "I could give it a whirl," he said, doing an aerial pirouette. "Not let’s go some place else. I need room to work." The two gargoyles and fey disappeared from the hallway, leaving everyone else arguing in the security room.

******

Maya uncloaked her wings at the sudden tropical atmosphere. It appeared they had been transported to the castle arboretum. Disoriented for a moment she looked about to have her eyes fall upon a smiling Puck. She smiled back faintly but nearly jumped out of her skin when Brooklyn came up beside her in a seemingly protective stance.

"All righty, time to get this party started," said the trickster and then he recited an incantation quickly producing a beacon of green light, which projected out through the skylight, quickly disappearing over the cityscape.

Brooklyn uncovered his eyes by lowering his hand as Maya asked, "Do you think it will work? Will you be able to trace it?"

"Manhattan’s a big island to cover so I’ll need help searching. Mind volunteering angel face?" Puck grinned, ignoring Brooklyn’s growl of disapproval.

"Anything to help—"

"Right!" exclaimed Brooklyn.

"Except, we don’t need three." Puck commented confidant that he got his point across. Maya spared the trickster a pained look. Puck merely looked away with an "innocent" expression.

"Brooklyn, try to keep the others busy. We’ll try to keep everyone out of danger unless it’s absolutely necessary, understand?"

"Yeah sure," muttered Brooklyn.

Maya opened her mouth to speak but Puck cut in. "Well, now then that’s been settled we can be on out way." The trickster made Maya disappear then faded slowly away himself, his taunting words echoing in the red gargoyle’s ears. "Bye-bye Brookie."

******

Appearing in mid-air Maya flapped her wings twice to clumsily regain her balance in the air. Looking around all there seemingly was, was a thick mist and a sea under her stretching as far as the eye could see.

"Not very atmospheric is it?" came a familiar voice. The trickster Puck faded into existence in front of Maya. Startled, the young gargress pulled back while almost loosing her balance with a startled yelp.

"What is this place?" she said softly, once more casting a sweeping look at her surroundings.

"The water gate to Avalon, a gate that I can’t pass," the fey said sourly. Upon his words behind him appeared a sort of stage or dock decorated in a medieval style.

Suddenly a wooden skiff drifted out of the mist towards the stage, a lone figure in its confines. Wearing a long cloak, Maya nor Puck could tell who it was. Once the skiff docked Maya could hear a faint cry of a child, its insistent wailing carrying over the salty sea air.

The figure juggled its arms as it climbed up a short staircase and onto the medieval stage. Starting enough three identical women’s figures appeared in front of the figure.

Puck growled under his breath," the Three."

"The who?"

"The Weird Sisters, and believe me, they’re not an easy bunch to deal with."

When the lone figure handed a squirming bundle to the white-haired sister Maya gasped, "Alex!" and speedily dove for the stage, Puck’s cry for her to stop carried away by the wind.

Maya angled her wings and dove for the child, succeeding in snatching him safely from one very startled Luna.

"How dare you interfere Renegade Fey!" shouted Luna, letting off a blast of green energy hitting Maya square between the wings.

"NO! shortly exclaimed Puck in surprise, letting off a blast of wind that knocked the Three and their mortal cohort on their duffs. The trickster immediately zipped over to the fallen Maya, overjoyed that Alex was all right but pained at Maya’s injuries. Gently scooping up the child, Puck slowly stood to face the fuming fey trio and their human ally.

"What do ya say to a little magic lesson my boy?" The child gurgled happily, waving his chubby fists at his teacher/mentor.

A grinning Puck was all Maya saw before slipping into unconsciousness.

Pyper groaned deeply in her throat, hissing through her teeth when she tried to move causing paint o lance through her whole back. Feeling she had no wings, Pyper assumed she was in her true elfin form.

Squinting, she slowly opened her blue-violet eyes to see the blurry but recognizable image of Owen Burnett standing beside her bed like a sentinel.

Swallowing in a vain attempt to wet her dry throat, Pyper focused on Owen’s face revealing it to have an expression of disbelief.

As if reading her mind Owen said softly, "I can’t believe it."

"I’m sorry for lying to you Owen," she almost whispered.

A faint smile graced his lips as he said, "Lying and not telling the whole truth are two different things Pyper."

She automatically winced at the sound of her true name making Owen almost grin. "By the by," he began flippantly, "I complement you on your siren voice that goes so well with your angel voice."

Pyper’s eyes narrowed into blue-violet triangles. "You’re evil. Evil incarnate, and should be chucked off Wyvern’s highest tower."

There was a pause—then Pyper giggled musically and Owen’s quiet chuckle joined her, but Pyper suddenly gasped at a sharp pain in her back. "We are a pair aren’t we?" she said in a strained voice.

"We are indeed," Owen said quietly while adjusting her pillows a she slowly leaned back on them. Then on a more serious note, "You have been unconscious for a few hours. It was fortunate your illness did not take a turn for the worst."

"What day is it?"

"It’s the day of November 24^th," he replied, pouring her glass of cool water and handing it to her. He continued, "You have a lengthy explanation head of you."

After a sip she commented, "Ah yes, Goliath and his clan," very quietly.

"What do you plan to tell them?" he asked as lightly as he could.

"The truth….. the whole truth," she finished quietly.

As he picked up the glass from her hands and set it aside he calmly added, "And nothing but the truth."

There was comfortable pause then, "I didn’t know there were others like me."

Owen smiled faintly, "Our kind are many. We are Children of Oberon and make up Third Race, the first and second races being humans and gargoyles." Seeing her trying to take this all in he then caressed her cheek while saying, "You had best have the whole day to rest for tomorrow night."

Pyper sighed tiredly as she comfortably laid down, suddenly feeling very sleepy. Groggily and eyes drooping she said, "Owen about last night….. I—we….."

"Puck defeated the Sister and brought Alexander as well as you back as safely as he could."

"….. mmm….. that’s…… not what I….. meant….." she trailed of, slipping into a deep slumber.

"I know," said the blond man softly. He slipped a small vile into his right blazer pocket, and turned to go. "I know."

******

"We have failed to obtain the heir my sisters," droned Luna in her usual monotone.

"We shall have to plan another raid if we are to achieve out primary goal," continued Selene, "and perhaps rid ourselves of that meddlesome Renegade Fey," she added darkly.

"Yes, but perhaps we may work on freeing ourselves first!!" hissed a very angry Pheobe as all three of them shivered while struggling against iron chains. Being trapped in a cave up in the Himalayas does have its disadvantages.

******

Nicholas Conners fumed at his bathroom mirror in his apartment in Brooklyn Heights, or more accurately, he fumed at the huge bump on his forehead.

"That Pyper’s gonna pay in the worst way," he muttered while trying to clean up the bruise the best he could, already giving up on trying to cover the bump. "I’ll make her life a living hell," then a quieter tone, "I don’t know how….." then louder, "But it will be hell."

"Then perhaps—"

"-we can be—"

"—of assistance," said three identical voices. Niko gasped and jumped at what or should it be who he saw in the mirror. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Well ladies when can we do business?"

******

******

A prophecy which will soon come to pass…..

******

Author’s note: There is currently a sequel to this story in progress, so keep a look out for it. I will say no more ;-P

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