A gust of wind whipped against Gabriel’s face, stinging his eyes. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting his sunglasses, and the relentless breeze, as if intent on irritating him, kept up its game. The full summer foliage in the trees lining the walkways at the University of Chicago rustled. If it wasn’t the middle of the day, he’d carve a few nasty words into a trunk or two for revenge.
He peered at his phone. Google Maps pointed the way to Stuart Hall. Almost there. He picked up his pace, a light skip in his step. Situated next to the library in the Harper Quad, the majestic structures with their stone edifices and tile roofs seemed out of place in the middle of Chicago.
Students, some with backpacks hung over their shoulders, hurried past, while others congregated in small groups on the lawn. A burst of laughter, answered by another, carried along on that damned breeze.
Not far away, three young women huddled on a blanket under a tree, unopened text books spread out before them. One pointed to three guys standing on the walkway, backs straight, chests puffed out. The flirtatious giggles erupted again. Childish games.
Gabriel gnashed his teeth. How was he supposed to destroy a stone gargoyle with all this activity?
He shook his head and consulted Google Maps once again. His destination, Stuart Hall, loomed to his left. As he walked by the flirty girls, he almost passed his target. Along the peaked roofline, several gargoyles stared at the passersby with unyielding attention. The last one on the left sported pointed ears and a snout with bared, sharp teeth. Long claws extended from hands clasped around a protective shield.
Despite the eighty-degree weather, a chill lifted the hairs on Gabriel’s arms. Damn gargoyles.
Large scaffolding covered a portion of the building’s exterior. Two men, one taller than the other, were dressed in blue jeans with matching red shirts and red caps. They worked on the stone surrounding one of the windows. The back of their T-Shirts read “Phil’s maintenance and repair.”
Gabriel rubbed his goatee. Just wonderful. How could he destroy the stone guardian without notice, especially with the maintenance guys front and center? If the task were easy, Marco would’ve tackled the problem himself.
The desire to please the fae, become a leader in Marco’s army, fueled Gabriel’s determination. Besides, he enjoyed inflicting harm on others, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. He straightened his shoulders and searched for options.
Outside the building’s massive doors, an old-fashioned corkboard hung from a hook. A few pieces of paper fluttered in the breeze. One contained the picture of a girl’s face. At this distance, details were a bit fuzzy, but recognition sparked in his mind. Perhaps the girl’s pink-tipped hair set him off. He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, the picture drew him forward.
He ran up the steps, two at a time, adrenaline surging in his veins. As he approached, details solidified—familiar dark tresses, a pert button nose, and those green eyes, the ones that sparked his passion as well as his anger.
“Shit in a shoebox. Sadie.” Warmth spread through his chest.
After months of searching, he’d given up looking for the little bitch and had moved on with his life. That was over two years ago.
In bold black letters, the print at the top of the page read “Have you seen this girl? Call Hannah at…”
“Well, look at that?” He brushed a finger down the flat paper, over her hair, and along her cheekbone. “Sadie, Sadie, Sadie. Seems your sister hasn’t given up on you yet. I wonder if she’s as feisty.”
He ripped the page off the board and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “Soon, Hannah, very soon, you and I will speak about your dear sister. I so look forward to meeting you.”
“Hey, Bill, time for lunch. I hear the university’s cafeteria has some good pepperoni pizza. You game?” One of the workman’s voices echoed from above.
“Sure.” The other man groaned. “Could use a break. My back is killing me.”
Gabriel’s chest expanded. This was his opportunity. He shoved the paper in his pocket and pretended to study the advertisements on the board.
The men’s heavy boots clomped against the metal scaffolding, echoing in the entryway.
“Ah, man, what a relief. You watch the Sox game yesterday?”
“Yeah, they actually won…”
The men’s voices faded along with their footsteps.
Gabriel hurried down the steps, a thrill zinging along his nerves. A set of stairs built into the metal structure rose from the end of the platform. At its feet, chained to one of the poles was a closed toolbox, one of the men’s red hats resting on top. An assortment of long-handled tools, too large to fit in the box, leaned against the scaffolding’s lower rungs.
Nervous excitement strummed in his veins, and he glanced around. The three young men joined the gaggle of girls that had been ogling them on the lawn. Engrossed with each other, they didn’t pay him any attention. Other than an occasional student here and there, the sidewalk remained blessedly empty.
Now was his chance.
Senses heightened, he strode to the toolbox. With a quick, natural ease, he tugged on the hat and studied the assortment of tools leaning close by—an axe, a crow bar, and a sledgehammer.
He chuckled to himself. “Seems I’m a lucky S.O.B. today.”
After gripping the sledgehammer’s handle, he hoisted the heavy weight. Yes, oh yes, this tool would get the job done.
He clutched the ladder’s closest rung. The metal, cool and firm against his palm, was a welcome relief to the sweat coating his skin. He scaled each step, dragging the sledgehammer with him.
As he reached the top, the hard metal end clanked against the platform. Breath escaped his lungs in short, hurried pants. His attention riveted on his target.
The gargoyle’s dark, sightless eyes bore into him. Tiny hairs at the back of his neck rose followed by a shiver.
He curled his lip. No way would he let a piece of stone intimidate him. He took a step forward. Between the floorboards, the sidewalk seemed to rush toward him. With his free hand he grasped the railing, his knuckles turning white.
He took a deep breath and focused on the hideous gargoyle. As long as he didn’t look down, he’d be fine. Right…
On unsteady feet, he moved forward. When he was within striking distance, he stopped.
A bead of sweat trickled down his brow and along his ear. Irritation flared at his temple, and he wiped the moisture away.
This close, the pointed canines seemed longer, the claws sharper, the furrowed brow angry, and if he were to admit it, downright scary. He’d hate to meet up with this gargoyle in a dark alley. He shook his head. No time like the present.
He surveyed the grounds, searching for the workmen or any students. The trio of guys and girls no longer sat beneath the tree. A man scampered toward the library, backpack beating against his back with each stride. Other than the lone student, the grounds in Harper Quad were eerily empty.
Not wanting to squander his good fortune, Gabriel hefted the heavy mallet, and pouring all his strength into his effort, swung the sledgehammer. The hardened metal connected with the gargoyle’s ear.
Shards of concrete scattered through the air and tinkled against the scaffolding. Apparently, the witches didn’t watch over the gargoyles during the day. Marco would be so pleased.
A warm satisfaction swept through him, better than any drug’s high. Oh, how he liked the addictive rush. Muscles bursting with energy, he swung the sledgehammer around with a force that surprised him. As the hard metal end careened toward its destiny, a grunt of pure delight burst from his lips.
The sledgehammer connected with the beast’s skull. Bits of rock and pebbles showered over the edge. Then, as if in slow motion, the gargoyle’s entire head broke from its body and careened off the rooftop. With feeding-frenzy intensity, Gabriel swung at his nemesis again and again. Each hit wrought more damage, shards of stone slipping, slipping, slipping away.
Exhaustion caught up with Gabriel, slowing his movements, and his last swing missed its target, connecting with the roof instead. Irritation and the intense desire to complete his mission swelled in his chest. Drawing on his remaining strength, he raised the sledgehammer over his head and crashed the hard mallet against the stone guardian.
The damaged figure balanced for a brief moment, as if unwilling to leave its perch, before tumbling over the side. A moment later, a loud thud echoed from below.
Gabriel wanted to shout, scream, yell to the heavens and revel in his glory, but he couldn’t afford detection.
Instead, he chuckled softly and whispered, “Marco, you will be pleased. Indeed, you will.”
Curiosity drew his gaze over the edge to the scattered bits of stone remnants. Big mistake. A shot of adrenaline hit him like the sledgehammer he’d wielded, and his vision wavered. He gripped the railing and closed his eyes. He needed to leave, now, before anyone noticed him.
Ignoring the white dots that threatened to take him down, he forced himself to climb the scaffolding. I will not fall. I will not fall. The mantra helped, and in a matter of moments, his feet hit the ground.
“Hey, you!” A man’s deep shout echoed against the building.
Gabriel tossed the cap and bolted, but not before he stole a glance at his accomplishment. The gargoyle’s broken shards sprawled across the pavement and into the lawn. A piece even lodged itself at a juncture between two bars on the scaffolding.
As Gabriel ran between the buildings, a laugh bubbled from his lips. “Wow, I didn’t think it would be so easy. Goodbye, Laroche.”