The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (42 page)

He thought for a moment. “Very well. It might help simplify things.

“Many years ago, there was a fae named Hyani. As a child, she played with the young of a clan of shape-shifters. Eventually, she came to love a young shifter named Traic.

“Her family did not approve. They forbade her to be with him. Instead of obeying them, she ran away to be with her love. By the time their hiding place was discovered, they had already produced three children. Her parents, while angered, did not want to discipline their beloved daughter. Not all fae felt the same way.

“There was war. Traic was killed in battle, but his friends the gargoyles helped Hyani and the children escape. They fled to the mortal world, but Hyani could not overcome her grief. In her despair, she transformed herself into a form that could shelter her children, but would be unable to suffer the pain of loss. She became this house.”

Jordon blinked. “She became a
house
? How is that possible?” She looked around, trying to see a living being in the walls around her. It looked ordinary enough to her, if richly appointed and rather dusty.

Griffin shook his head. “After all you’ve seen, how can you doubt? Have faith that the house is what remains of our ancestor.

“It is said that the ladies of the house sometimes hear her guidance. I wouldn’t doubt she had a hand in bringing you here. It’s been a long time since there was a woman she could talk to.”

“Mrs Y. is here,” Jordon pointed out.

He smiled. “Mrs Y. is extraordinary, but she is not family.” Before she could comment on that, he went on, “Hyani’s children were of mixed blood and inherited long life, something that infuriated the fae, who were jealous of the gifts. They did not want to see mortals rival them in any way. There has been strife between the two races ever since, though the fae are careful never to attack Hyani in any way that would raise the ire of her family, for fae children are rare, and she is still much loved by her parents.

“Her brother is not as reserved. Although he seems to care for his sister and is thought to commune with her still, he considers her children to be freaks. We’ve suspected that he works with her enemies. The attempt on your life seems to confirm it. I think he knew you were someone of interest to Hyani, a possible successor. She has been known to matchmake before, very successfully. He would not like to see another mated pair.” He smiled. “He was right to be afraid.”

Jordon tried not to squirm. “You don’t know that’s what’s going on.”

“It seems logical. Which brings me back to the point. Will you marry me, Jordon?”

Jordon tapped her back teeth together. “I’ve not given up on going home, you know. If the house could bring me here, she could send me back. All I have to do is convince her.”

“Luck with that,” he said, not in the least upset. “She’s not known to change her mind. I’m interested to know how you would plan to raise a griffin child alone, by the way. They tend to be headstrong. She would need guidance.”

“What makes you think it would be a she?”

He smiled. “Most first children tend to be, in honour of their grandmother. I would be pleased with a boy or a girl. I would enjoy being a father.”

She didn’t appreciate him being so nice about this. It made him harder to deal with. “You don’t know that I’m pregnant. In light of that and the fact that we hardly know each other, I think marriage is fairly premature. You don’t even know that we’re well suited.”

“Hm.” He stared thoughtfully at the mantel. “A valid point. I propose a courtship period, then. What say you to a month? Surely that would be long enough to give you an idea of my character.”

Jordon didn’t recall specifically agreeing to his request. He somehow managed to make it seem as if she had. He even went so far as to formally introduce her as his fiancée to his brothers at lunch. When she called him on it later, he said, “I’m the confident sort.”

She took it to mean that he was arrogant beyond measure.

Servants began to appear at the house over the next few hours. Jordon couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was odd about them, though Griffin informed her they were the fae who had formerly served in the house. Noses were too big on some, fingers too long on others, as if they couldn’t quite master the nuances of the human form. Seeing them cleaning industriously made her wonder, though. “How long were you gone, Griffin? A couple of months?”

He shrugged. “Oh, fifty years or so. They get touchy if you’re gone for a while, and we’ve been home only a matter of days. Now that we’re here, Mrs Y. has set about coaxing them home.”

She stared at his face. Considering he didn’t look older than thirty, that seemed amazing. It was not something she felt comfortable asking about just then, however. There was something more pressing she wanted to know. “Tell me about the gargoyles.”

He looked thoughtful. “I could show you instead. You seem brave enough to handle it.” He smiled, but it slowly faded. He looked at her seriously. “There are other things you should know, too.”

She was wary. “Like what?”

He glanced at the windows, perhaps tracking the path of the sun. “Samhain, Sage and I are shape-shifters. It’s part of who we are. We need to spend part of each day in our natural forms, or we suffer.”

“Suffer how?” She pictured agonies of the damned, men screaming in pain.

“It’s melancholy at first. We become moody and withdrawn, go off our feed. If left for a very long while, some shifters become suicidal. You could give us the best things in life, and we still could not cope with the grief. We need to be ourselves.”

“Oh. I see.” His explanation made sense.

He watched her carefully. “Good. You’ll understand then when I tell you that we chose the night to be our animal forms. We are nocturnal by nature, and it keeps our neighbours from noticing. Since it’s also the time when the gargoyles awaken, it is most convenient. It’s also why we eat dinner just after sunset. Gargoyles wake hungry.”

Jordon thought about that for a moment, then cleared her throat. “OK. You’re telling me that you’ll all be at the dining room table as your true selves.”

He smiled at her. “This shape is also a ‘true self. I’ll just look a little different.”

“Right.” She nodded, then kept nodding as she processed his revelation. How did a girl brace for all that?

Griffin suggested she meet the gargoyle clan first, hoping it would be easiest on her. “You might also want to ask Rook how his nose is doing. He was the one you hit with the stick. He’ll be the black one, with white hair.”

She winced. “Sorry about that. I was a little shook up last night.”

“Hm. Well, I won’t let him eat you. You should know he tends to be moody, though.”

As a result of his warning, she was feeling a little nervous as they approached a gate set in the high shrubbery. The gate itself was hidden from the house by an oak tree and a group of flowering bushes. Griffin had to unlock it.

“The gate is warded to drive away any guests we might receive. We don’t want visitors to wonder why the statues change positions from day to day.” He held the door open for her.

Jordon stepped inside, looked curiously at the group of five statues within the large garden. Each one rested on a wide stone pedestal, and no two seemed to be the same. There were several that she recognized as gargoyles, though none of them were the squat, ugly monsters she’d been expecting. They were alien, yes, with hard, sharp angles, like the one with spikes on his elbows and wingtips. He had claws, and his face was set in a snarl, but she saw the beauty in his features, too. There were others like him, though each was unique in his own way.

Jordon hadn’t known how the sight of them caught in stone would affect her. The thought of seeing them wake should have daunted her more than it did. Stronger was the urge to see them free.

She gently touched the foot of the gargoyle closest to her, felt the stone flex under her hand. She gasped and pulled her hand back. The stone subsided.

Griffin grinned. “It’s all right. They’re close to waking. No doubt you startled him.”

She gave Griff a wide-eyed glance, then went back to watching the silent gargoyles. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the stone flexed slowly, moved like a living thing. All around her, chests expanded, drew in air. Colour bloomed over the stone, turned it to onyx, jade, carnelian, quartz . . .

Jordon paced backwards, the better to view the change. As stone slowly became flesh, a powerful joy seized her and, with it, a sense of helpless fear. She didn’t know these beings. She had no cause for joy.
What was happening to her?

She still felt awkward at dinner. By then she suspected that part of what she was feeling came from the house itself. All day it had seemed as if it were whispering to her, subtle thoughts that just brushed her mind. That was odd enough, but the reality of sitting across from seven mythical beings was almost overwhelming.

Griffin sat on her left in his griffin form, the size of a horse. A handsome, gleaming brown with golden beak and claws, he was rather intimidating. It was difficult to convince herself that he was also the man she’d spent the day with, and much of last night.

The gargoyles were able to sit, though Jordon thought they would have been more comfortable on stools than in high-backed chairs, for their wings draped uncomfortably behind them, and none of them seemed to rest their spines against the upholstery. She speculated that the pressure on their wings was uncomfortable.

Sage and Samhain stood at the table, though the stallion’s food and water was actually on the floor. Jordon wasn’t terribly shocked when Sage was brought a couple of whole, raw chickens. He was a giant white owl, after all, easily the height of a man. It did cause her some consternation when a bowl of freshly butchered rabbit was placed before Samhain’s stallion form, along with a bucket of strong black coffee. She didn’t comment, of course, but she did pour herself a little more wine. Unfortunately, her own excellent meal was going mostly untouched. She was too tense to really enjoy it. Though they were on their best behaviour, she was just not used to such extraordinary company. She sipped at her glass of wine.

She studied them carefully, trying to be subtle. In return they eyed her boldly back as they shoved food into their maws. There was very little talking. Eating was serious business.

After a few minutes, Jordon left off picking at her soup. When she saw Griffin eyeing it, she shoved it his way. “It’s good, but I’m not very hungry.”

He drank it carefully, making the bowl look dainty as a tea cup. “Very nice.” It was odd to hear his voice coming from a griffin’s beak.

She cleared her throat. “Do you often eat human food when you’re a griffin, or is meat better for your body?” Someone had poured more wine into her cup. She took a sip.

“I prefer meat, though cheese makes a nice snack. Bread is pretty tasty, too.”

“But no vegetables,” she said, smiling a little.

“Definitely not.”

She accepted the next course from a freckle-faced boy. She doubted he was as human as he appeared. Jordon couldn’t imagine too many Victorian citizens would take the sight of her present company in their stride. It wasn’t too many years past the time when a supposed witch would have been burned at the stake. She assumed the same would happen to gargoyles and such, should they be caught.

She lowered her eyes to her salmon and buttery fried parsnips. She noticed the gargoyles were served the same, and plenty of it. Unlike her, they didn’t seem to be as careful of fish bones. She drank the last of her wine and poured some more. “Mrs Y. is a good cook,” she said, trying to make small talk. “You’re lucky to have her.”

Rook coughed, amused. “The local farmers are lucky we have her! Happy for them, not all of us enjoy raw meat.” Like the others, he didn’t bother with tableware, deeming his fingers utensil enough.

“And the farmers frown on missing sheep,” a sharp-edged gargoyle called Vicious said between bites. He had black hair, blue skin and wings. Chuckles followed his statement.

“They wouldn’t really steal,” Sage explained to her calmly. “The estate provides for all of us. As night guardians, they hardly have to beg for food.”

Jordon looked to Griffin. “If you’re all awake at night, who guards the place when you’re asleep?”

“Unlike the gargoyles, we can be awake in the daylight. We need little sleep,” Griffin explained.

The blue gargoyle grinned a sharp white grin. “It gives him more time to cat around. The ladies like his company.”

Griffin growled in warning, and Vic lost his smile. “What?”

The wolf-like creature next to him, Howl, snickered. He had roast beef stuck in his teeth. “Don’t mind him. He’s not too smart.”

“Vic’s barely thirty,” the thin purple one across the table from him spoke up, cutting across the brewing fight. Jordon thought his name was Lance. “He probably hasn’t noticed what’s happening between you two.”

Jordon stiffened, set down her fork. “I wasn’t aware there was anything happening,” she said with strained calm. She didn’t like to think of the relationship between her and Griff as public, not when she barely knew what to make of it herself. She nervously took a sip of wine.

Lance stared at her. Cornered, he shot a glance at Griffin, and quickly changed the subject. “I’m the best flier. Howl tracks like a wolf.”