Gryphon and His Thief Page 7

  With a sigh, he leaned forward in his seat and scanned the contents, looking for the entry regarding the Gryphon. A few minutes later, he came across it in living color. There was a sketch of the beast, not a photo so the item had been with the collection for a long time. He read the description of the curse handwritten beneath it. "Cursed to guard treasures," he read out loud. "Never one with itself," he said with less confidence. What did that mean? Not one with himself. "Darkness is for the beast as light is for the human soul." He stared at the passage. Calli might have told him a similar story, but it didn't mean it actually referred to him. He was about to tell her so, but then she shoved her mobile phone in front of him. A video played and it took him a second more to register what he viewed.

  He shook his head in disbelief, but how could he deny what she'd caught on film? He bloody well shifted into the Gryphon then something resembling a ghostlike being… "This cannot be real," he said, but his gut told him what he viewed was indeed all too real. He played it again. Then again…and yet again. All the blood seemed to rush to his head and the room tilted. "I don't feel so…well," he said. A silvery light blurred his vision right before everything went black.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Darrien!" Calli cried as she jumped off the desk and tried to stop him from toppling from the chair. He may be Nerdy Darrien, but it didn't make him any less impressive in size. She only managed to fall over too, with him landing on top of her. All the air went out of her in a whoosh.

  "Darrien…ouch…uh…" she grunted and shoved at his shoulders. Just her luck, his geeky side was a fainter. She shoved again, trying to squirm free. "God, you are heavy. Ugh! Move, will you?"

  He groaned in protest, but she wasn't entirely sure it had anything to do with his unconscious state, but rather her rubbing against him as she tried to wiggle free. "This cannot be happening," she murmured, but apparently it was. He didn't roll away as she hoped. Instead, she only managed to ignite his passion. His lips found hers and he kissed her…again…or rather Nerdy Darrien kissed her. It seemed some things the curse could not control. His ability to kiss proved one of those things. Boy, did Beastie Darrien and Nerdy Darrien have this in common.

  Passion overrode her need to be free and her eyes fluttered closed as she took what he offered, savoring all the subtle variations of his kisses. Her fingers spread into the silky softness of his hair. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips, the sound surprising her. A glass of cold water in the face couldn't have been better. Her eyes popped open as reality came hurdling back. What she was doing proved to be all kinds of wrong. Darrien wasn't really conscious, even if his libido had awakened to greet her. She moved her head to the side, breaking their lip-lock and taking a well-needed breath. Then she promptly slapped his face. "Wake up!"

  Darrien sputtered and his eyelids snapped open. He blinked a few times in rapid succession as if he had trouble focusing without his glasses.

  "Calli?" he asked, his voice shaky and disoriented. Then he must have noticed the intimate situation they found themselves in. His face turned three shades of red as he scrambled off her. "Sorry," he said as he searched for his glasses, his hands outstretched and his fingers gingerly feeling the floor.

  Yep, he did a great imitation of being a blind man, only it seemed he wasn't acting. He was truly sight impaired.

  She spotted the eyewear and reached for them. "Here," she said and knelt in front of him to place the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Their eyes met and for a moment she thought perhaps he would kiss her yet again. Her heart fluttered in response, and her breath caught in her throat just thinking about those lips on hers. She really didn't understand this immediate attraction. Love at first sight was not her MO, and lust at first sight wasn't either.

  The song, It's in His Kiss, popped into her head, but she shut that nonsense down right away. If he loves you— She was not going there. Kissing didn't mean love. It's a good start, her mind casually mocked her. "Stop it."

  Darrien frowned at her outburst and lifted his hands to the side. "I'm not doing anything."

  She waved him away. "I know. Put your hands down," she ordered, which didn't put him at ease. "Sorry. I'm just… Forget it, will you?" She glanced away. She couldn't stare into those hypnotic eyes of his and stay focused on what mattered here.

  Starting a relationship with any guy was too much to handle in her line of business. Relationships were about trust and she'd have to lie about where she went and the jobs she pulled. Some people were too narrow-minded to appreciate her line of work. As for Darrien – heck, he had his own issues. Split souls proved a new one on her, but the confusion would be more than she wanted to take on. It would seem like she was cheating on Beastie Darrien if she were to kiss Nerdy Darrien…and vice-versa. No, she couldn't… No, kissing either of them…ever again – even if both Darriens could make her toes curl.

  "I am sorry," Darrien said again, and he did look contrite. His face remained flushed and his eyes bright. "I don't understand what came over me," he added and pursed his lips.

  Her cheeks felt a tad bit hot too. "Don't worry about it. Can't fault you for something you didn't know you were doing. Besides it wasn't all that bad." His gaze riveted to hers and she wished she hadn't added that last part.

  He cleared his throat. "Well then," he said and rose to his feet, offering her a hand up.

  "Thank you." His grip proved strong and warm and made her wish he would pull her into his arms. "Uh…we should…uh…" Her thoughts not only tripped her into stuttering, but it also startled her enough that she stumbled right into his hard chest to receive her wish. Darrien's arms went around her, bracing her fall and bringing her up close and personal all over again.

  "I have you," he told her.

  The funny thing was, she believed he did, in more ways than one. She steadied herself and gripped his forearms as she took a step away, if only to take a well-needed breath and gain control of her emotions. "Aren't we the stumbling duo?" She chuckled as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Darrien froze and stared at her as if the gesture was out of the ordinary. "What?" she asked. "You aren't going to faint again, are you?"

  His eyes focused then and he blinked. "Faint? No, of course not, but I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. Quite put the hairs on my arms on end." He rolled back his sleeve to show her the evidence. "The way you tucked your hair behind your ear... Well, it seemed familiar."

  "Oh..." She didn't quite keep the disappointment out of her voice. She'd thought he referred to their kiss. Guess she needed some work on her technique to make it memorable. Her fingers itched to tuck another wayward strand behind her ear, but she held herself in check. "Like I told you, we've already met. You're probably picking up on last night's introductions."

  "Yeah. Right-o. So you've said, and perhaps you're correct." He glanced at the book opened to the page dedicated to the Gryphon. Then his gaze shifted to the real deal, the statue in the flesh… well, stone anyway. "I'm a Gryphon," he said more to himself than to her, as if he wanted to try out the statement and see how he felt about it. He chuckled, but she knew he was not happy he'd been forced to learn such a secret. "A Gryphon is a fearless beast," he said. Sadness dimmed his eyes to a dull gold brown. "I am no such thing, I'm afraid."

  "Noble and loyal are traits also and I bet those adjectives fit you."

  "You know nothing of such things, Miss Angelis."

  She gave him a smile. "I believe we established I know more about you than you do." Her statement didn't exactly cheer him. "Listen, we'll sort this all out later, but right now I need your help in finding out who Professor Leander truly is and why she's so determined to have Hecate's Stone."

  "Perhaps we should be more focused on how she knew about the stone in the first place?" he countered and his left brow rose. "I can assure you this: she never owned the object in question. Even if her corporation funded the dig, they would not deliver it into her hands. There are certain channels one would follow to insure the safety of the art
ifact. The fact she hired you without the press and she wired your money to an offshore account only proves she is hiding something."

  "She convinced me otherwise with her story about the company losing their funding. She claimed if the press got wind that an artifact went missing, it would appear as if they were incapable of guarding the site against fortune hunters. They would be shut down." She pointed to the computer on his desk. "Does that work?"

  "Of course." He took the steps separating him from the desk and sat down in the chair. He reached for the button on the lower left corner of the monitor and the screen lit up. "What do you want to look up first?"

  "I tried to research Professor Leander, but I only came up with things about her charitable contributions and her papers on Grecian history and art. Every article praised her expertise on the subjects, but I have a hunch this was a front for what she truly does with her free time. Let's see if we can dig a little deeper and find out what it is before I have to meet with her." She glanced at her watch. "At the very least, I'll need to phone her with an update."

  "No matter what we find out, she cannot have the stone," Darrien reminded her. "It's dangerous and no one should be able to wield such power."

  She'd already decided she wouldn't turn it over, but she wanted answers. She didn't like being used, and especially when it involved her being responsible for a possible zombie apocalypse. "She's not getting her hands on it," she said aloud, "but I have a hunch we're dealing with someone who can make our lives miserable if she doesn't get her way. She didn't strike me as the bow down and go away type."

  "If Professor Leander is as powerful as you claim, why didn't she just waltz in here and take the stone herself?" His brows furrowed as he thought about the question he voiced. Then his eyes lit up like he'd been given the best gift ever. "She's a preternatural being. The museum is warded against Otherworldly beings from willy-nilly taking items as they please. Why else would Professor Leander not take action herself?"

  She really did like the way he talked. Willy-nilly…cute. She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the dilemma at hand and not how adorable Nerdy Darrien appeared sitting behind the desk, all straight-laced and proper. She wasn't doing a very good job of it. All she could think about was removing his glasses and running her hands through his hair while she kissed him. If she pushed his chair back, his lap would be available for her to sit down and try out the fantasy.

  Stop it, she silently scolded herself and bit the inside of her cheek to put a halt to her daydreaming. This is what happens when she didn't have enough sleep. She became willy-nilly silly. She chuckled and covered her mouth.

  "Did I say something to amuse you?" Darrien asked and gave her a stiff upper lip.

  "No, I'm sorry. I'm slaphappy here. I could use a cup of coffee. Do you happen to have some stashed in that kitchen of yours?"

  "Sure thing. I have a notion to have a cup now and again." He pushed back the chair and stood.

  As she followed him into the kitchen, she tried to remember what they were talking about. Oh, yeah… "You mentioned the museum is warded against preternatural beings," she commented. "How do you know this?" She had assumed he didn't know about the preternatural world, but then again, he was the curator for cursed artifacts. How could he not know?

  Darrien opened a pantry next to the refrigerator, stocked with cans, flour, cereal, and all kinds of other goodies. "If you look closely at the museum walls," he said, "you'll notice there are fine lines, symbols, and drawings. Those are the wards preventing supernatural creatures from entering."

  Her brow furrowed, not because of his explanation about wards and etches on the wall, but because she wondered who stocked his pantry. Beastie Darrien certainly couldn't and Nerdy Darrien materialized every morning for the daytime job. She pushed away from the wall and strode over to take a closer look. She even went as far as picking up a can of beans. "Feels real."

  "Why wouldn't it?" Darrien asked and stared at her in confusion. He then glanced at the coffee can he held.

  "Who does your grocery shopping?" she asked.

  "I do," Darrien said. "Once a month I drive into town and pick up a few items."

  "So you can leave the museum for long periods of time."

  He lifted a shoulder. "I suppose, but I don't leave often and I never had the need to do so."

  "You never craved companionship? Never wanted to just close up the museum and never return? What about vacations?" She wanted to know everything about this version of Darrien. Maybe if she put it all together, she could somehow help. Who knows, maybe even put an end to his curse.

  "I… numerous times, but I always… Bollocks..." His gaze met hers. "I would get an anxiety attack and decide against it. Even the jaunts to the market put me on edge if I dallied too long." He sighed heavily. "I've been living a lie, haven't I? My memories aren't even real. I'm no better than a computer programmed to do simple tasks, and I didn't even question any of it." He ran a hand through his hair. "How could I not question things?"

  "I don't know. I'm not an expert on curses." Heck, she'd never encountered anyone who'd been cursed. "If you ask me, I think even if you did question something, once you awoke the next day, your doubts most likely were erased."

  He pointed toward the door and said, "I'm no better than those objects I guard. It's why I can enter the museum. I may be a preternatural being, but I'm also enchanted like a person in a demented fairytale, but I have a hunch no one's going to kiss me awake."

  Her brows rose. He knew about fairytales? He sure was full of surprises.

  He met her gaze and she had the urge to wrap her arms around him and tell him it would be all right, but she couldn't. It may never be all right for him. She settled on resting her hand on his shoulders. "We're going to make this better, I promise." In a sense, hadn't she already helped? Until today, Nerdy Darrien hadn't known of his other existence, and tonight, she'd update Beastie Darrien.

  "I wish I didn't know," he said.

  His words made her heart drop a beat. "What do you mean?" she asked and feared she already knew the answer.

  "The cruel joke is on me. I'll never do more than waste away in this place." He strode away from her and headed for the coffeepot on the counter.

  She didn't know what to say. A moment ago, she congratulated herself with a job well done when all she'd accomplished was to make Darrien's existence a million times more daunting. "I'm sorry." Of course, the words fell short and Darrien didn't respond other than pursing his lips.

  For a moment, they stood there listening to the melody of the coffeepot gurgling and hissing its tune as it brewed. The rich aroma filled the air and her mouth watered for a taste despite the dire circumstances presented.

  "It's not your fault," Darrien murmured at last then glanced her way. "I'm cursed, but not dead." He straightened his shoulders and stood taller. "If a curse can be cast then there must be a way to undo it as well, yeah?" His glasses had slipped and he nudged them back onto the bridge of his nose.

  He was definitely a trooper. She'd have to give him that. Perhaps she could see how Callista had fallen for such a guy. 'Cause if she were being honest here, she could do a little falling herself. She shifted her stance and cleared her throat. "Yeah," she answered him. "There has to be a way."

  The coffeepot gurgling hit a crescendo before it tapered to a sputter then one last hiss for the finale. Darrien did the honors and poured two cups. She indulged with a careful sip and would have taken a more generous taste, but her cell phone vibrated. She lifted it from her back pocket and frowned as she caught sight of the caller ID.

  "What's wrong?" Darrien asked, concern marring his features.

  "It's Professor Leander."

  "You shouldn't pick up," he said, panic lacing his words.

  "I have to. I don't want her becoming suspicious." She was about to answer, but then on second thought, she put the call on speaker so Darrien could hear the conversation. Who knows, maybe he would detect something she hadn't from
her previous conversations with the woman. "Hello," she said in greeting and hoped her voice sounded steady. Darrien stepped closer to her as if he were afraid he wouldn't be able to hear the professor from where he stood.

  "Ah, Miss Angelis, you are awake," Professor Leander said, her voice rich and with a hint of a Greek accent flavoring each word. "I'm calling to find out if you've had any luck acquiring the item we've chatted about. I must remind you, the deadline is fast approaching."

  She didn't have to remind her, she could practically hear the tick-tock behind the call. "I'm working on it."

  Silence on the other end greeted them, but then they heard the distinct tapping as if Professor Leander were drumming her fingers on a hard surface.

  Calli glanced at Darrien. His eyes grew wider and those broad shoulders of his lifted in a shrug. She was at a lost here too, wondering what Professor Leander pondered over. Finally, the woman graced them with an opinion. "Work faster, Miss Angelis." She ended the call with not so much as a goodbye.

  "She's Greek," Darrien said, referring to her accent.

  Calli slipped the phone back in her pocket. "Yes, so?"

  "In Greek mythology, Leander drowned at sea, trying to reach the woman he loved."

  "And this has to do with what exactly?"

  He shook his head as if he hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. "I don't know. You know when I told you I had a weird feeling of déjà vu from a gesture you displayed?" He didn't wait for her to answer but continued, "I had that same weird feeling when I heard Professor Leander's voice. Like I should know her. Like something as tragic as a man drowning at sea to reach his true love – that kind of feeling. Dread…" he said the last in a broken whisper.

  Okay, can we say weird? However, she kept that tidbit to herself because, let's face it, the last twelve hours had been a real trip down Weird-As-Heck lane and she really wanted to take another path. "Since you never leave the museum, except to the grocery store, how is that possible? Because I highly doubt Professor Leander is shopping at your local grocery mart."