The gargoyle had been an interesting, although not entirely unexpected, diversion. Gargoyles were generally solitary creatures. Nevertheless, Cal very much doubted that the one that had descended in such a cumbersome manner into Moncoya’s garden had arrived there on its own behalf. Gargoyles were not noted for their mental agility so it was highly unlikely the creature itself had been responsible for planning the offensive. A mind more cunning than that of a grotesque figure that spent its days crouching on the side of a church had thought up that little scheme. Because, even without Cal’s intervention, the lone gargoyle had never stood a chance against the might of Moncoya. Which meant it had probably been sent simply to discover if Stella actually was at La Casa Oscura. If it had found her alone and succeeded in snatching her while it was there...well, that would have been a nice bonus for whoever sent it. So who had commissioned a gargoyle to enter Moncoya’s lair on a reconnaissance mission? There were, as Cal had already said to Stella, a number of possibilities. None of them was pretty.
The arrival of the Valkyries had overset his plans in a way that the gargoyle had not. The Valkyries were not warriors, they didn’t take sides. Their disorientation signaled that the powers at work were more sinister and disruptive than anything even Cal had encountered before. He couldn’t have left Stella in the middle of the mayhem that had been taking place back at La Casa Oscura. And yet, wasn’t that exactly what was meant to happen? Wasn’t it her destiny to be launched into the midst of the uprising at this point in time? No. He shook his head. He knew now that the forces gathering were greater and more volatile than he had anticipated. Something had changed. Therefore he had to alter his plans accordingly. The confrontation would come, that part of the prophecy was inevitable. And Stella would be part of it. That too had been foretold. My job is to equip her for what lies ahead. It was bad enough when I knew what she was facing. I cannot allow her to go into this new unknown without preparing her. And this change of plan would have nothing to do with how you felt when Moncoya put his hands on her? He ignored the insidious little voice in his head as he followed the road signs for the airport.
“Where are we now?” Stella shifted in her seat and blinked at the unprepossessing view of industrial units in the darkness beyond the window.
“Approaching Girona. I need you to get on the internet and book us on the next plane to England.”
She bit her lip. “This is a bit embarrassing, but I haven’t got any money.”
He threw a quick grin in her direction. “I know. You never do. Reach over and get my jacket off the backseat. There’s a credit card in my wallet.”
“Angels with credit cards, what next?” Stella wriggled around until she’d retrieved his jacket. “Oh, I forgot. You get all antsy when I call you an angel.”
Cal was conscious of her scanning his profile in the close confines of the car but he deliberately didn’t respond to either her words or her scrutiny. After a shrug, Stella busied herself with her phone. “We’re in luck. There’s a flight to Manchester in three hours and they have seats available. Oh, and when we get on that plane, Cal—” her voice was restored to something approaching its normal tone “—I have one or two questions to ask you.”
“It might be best to save the conversation for somewhere more private.” There you go putting it off. She has to know. You can’t protect her forever from what she is.
“You might be right. But the question you can start with right now is why the bloody hell I’ve just paid for our fares using a credit card belonging to someone called Emrys Jones?”
Watching Cal while he slept might actually be addictive, Stella decided. The sculpted perfection of his chest rose and fell in time with his rhythmic breathing. The skin of his neck, exposed to her gaze as his head rested against the plane window, was incredibly smooth, with a bronzed sheen that was just begging to be touched. Long eyelashes fanned his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. Temptingly so. You are annoyed with him, remember? That doesn’t go away just because he happens to be gut-wrenchingly gorgeous.
Cal was her most enduring memory, the one true constant in her life. No one else had stuck around. She had convinced herself he was her guardian angel, had even—she blushed now at the memory—daydreamed about him falling in love with her. Yet he was undeniably prickly about the label. If he wasn’t an angel, who was he? Or perhaps the question should be what was he? One thing was for sure, he was definitely flesh and blood right now. And his human form was doing something utterly primeval to her nerve endings. Nevertheless, the puzzle of his identity had never been far from her mind since she had first seen him at the beach. Considering what had been going on in her life just lately, it was quite remarkable that Cal managed to occupy so much of her thoughts.
She wondered if she should be more distressed at the events of the past few days. But, if she accepted the reality of Cal—and, throughout her life she had not just accepted him, she had welcomed him—then she had to also acknowledge that there was a whole paranormal world out there that she didn’t understand. It was true that the manifestation of it all at once in the form of gargoyles and Valkyries and Cal taking on this delectable human form was unbelievable. But perhaps there was a reason for that. La Casa Oscura might be within some sort of magnetic field or something. She still couldn’t get her head around how Moncoya, one of the most famous men in the world, could also find time to be the king of the faeries. More important, from a basic survival point of view...
“What the hell has any of this got to do with me?” She addressed the question to the sleeping beauty next to her. Cal didn’t stir.
Grudgingly, she had accepted his explanation about the credit card. “I have no idea what’s going to happen with Moncoya so we need to be prepared for any eventuality. I have a number of cards all in different names. It’s not exactly legal in the mortal realm, but it’s a necessity in the face of what our faerie friend might throw at us.”
She hadn’t asked the most obvious question about what Moncoya might throw at them. She had a feeling she might find that out the hard way. Instead, she’d gone for another, equally important, question. “Is Cal your real name?”
A heartbeat, nothing more, before he had answered her. “Yes.”
She had shown no further qualms about using the credit card again when, having left the car in the airport parking lot, they had checked in at a desk thronged with weary-looking tourists. “Our flight leaves at two a.m. Come on.” Cal had grabbed her wrist. “We’ve got time to get you some new clothes.” The nonexistent Emrys Jones had paid hefty airport terminal prices for skinny black jeans, sneakers and a light blue sweater. Hoodie, tacky plastic shoes, shorts and tank top had all been dumped in a restroom bin. It was a reminder that everything she owned was back at La Casa Oscura.
Now Stella was crammed into the narrow seats of the economy flight, with Cal’s broad shoulders overlapping her personal space and his long legs bent at an awkward angle so that his knees pressed against hers. They were about half an hour from landing in England and he’d been asleep since takeoff. She prodded him sharply in the ribs and he opened one eye.
“Nice to see you remain alert and watchful at all times, Mr. Protector.”
He yawned and stretched. “It’s an act.” Stella raised a skeptical eyebrow and he grinned. “Well, I fooled you, didn’t I?”
Stella cast a sidelong glance at the youth who sat on her other side. He had on headphones and was engrossed in his handheld game throughout the flight. “Tell me about Moncoya.”
“Moncoya
