The God, The Guy, and The Gargoyle

Chapter Three

Chapter 3

I paid Jack, then led Adam out to the street, and around to the small alley between two apartment buildings. 

“C’mere.” I bit out, holding my arms open and letting my cloak morph back to its beautiful long, black self. 

His hiney-ness eyed me curiously. “Why? What are you going to do, Macabre Thanatos? Hug me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just come here.”

He took a hesitant step closer and I wrapped my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder and letting my cloak embrace us. 

Then, oh so softly (and oh so close to his hiney-ness’ ear that he jumped three feet-literally- in the air) I muttered, “Restoc neo-inen, raea ixs-neo, Newfrost, Connecticut. Omor neo-neo-higet, Nisat Marshall’s Lohpista.”

There was that familiar feeling of disorienting darkness that felt a bit like a swirly, then we landed in an empty hospital room. The sterile white walls were a bit shocking after all that black. 

“Whoa…wha’ just happened?” mumbled Adam, pressing a hand to his now-blue forehead. I guess he lost hold of the spell during the transport. Ah well. 

I busied myself with my cloak, pressing out the wrinkles to prepare it for transformation. “We transported.”

“What was that you said? ‘Restock-knee…’?”

I clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say more. “That, my dear royal pain, was the language of the dead. It is something only I and my father speak, as well as a few other Underworld gods. It is not to be uttered by someone who does not know the meanings of the words. The consequences could be…disastrous. Now, are you ready for our first reaping of the day?”

He gazed down his hawk-like nose at me. “Are you?”

You know, maybe he wasn’t as handsome as I first thought…

I huffed and rolled my eyes again. Honestly, if I had to keep flinging my eyes around in their sockets like this, I was going to get a migraine. Not caring enough to answer the little brat, I closed my eyes and transformed myself. 

After a moment, I let one eyelid slide open and glanced down. Perfect! Long, smoky blonde curls cascaded down my back, brushing up against my white, feathery wings. I blinked big blue eyes as I ran a delicate hand over my slivery-blue robe. 

There was a squeak from behind me and I threw a smirk over my shoulder. “What? Did you think I could only look like a demon, your hiney-ness?”

“Well…ahem…well, yes. Yes, I did.”

“Well, you were…ahem, wrong.” I summoned my scythe and prepared to walk through the wall to room 117. The way its obsidian black blade caught the bright light of the florescent bulbs waylaid me. 

“Now this will never do.” I murmured, cupping the scythes’ ebony handle. I sent a small bit of magick into it, smiling as it transformed into a pure silver staff. “That’s better! Now, come along, Prince Adam.”

“Where are we going?” he asked as he ran to catch up with me. 

“Shh. Be quiet. I expect you not to say a word during this reaping.” 

“Wait, wait. Where are we?”

“We’re in a hospital in Connecticut. The time is 1 am, so I need you to be quiet. Please.” Then, I took a step through the wall, hoping-not really-that the Fae boy would follow me.