Knights of Stone - Lachlan (6 page)

Raina’s face appeared before him again. If he failed, he’d disappoint her as well. Why did that bother him most of all?

After the sun descended in brilliant orange brush strokes across the horizon, the four brothers transformed to gargoyle form. Cloaking themselves so they’d be invisible to any human onlookers, they unfurled their wings and flew from the Isle of Stone. All were quiet during the flight, which gave Lachlan time to think. The only sounds came from the flap of their wings through the air and the distant sound of the ocean movement below.

As they flew over the Atlantic, the moon grew brighter. The bright orb reflected in a thousand shimmering lights on the waves of the North Atlantic below. They appeared to float along beneath them as if accompanying them on their journey south. Had it been only a couple of days since the moon had been at its full peak, wreaking such havoc on the Isle of Stone?

Know what you’re going to say?
Bryce communicated to him through his thoughts.

No.
Even silently, he heard the curtness in his tone.

After several minutes, Calum brought up the future of the band again.

Just because we don’t have an audience on the isle doesn’t mean we can’t go back to the way we were before. Playing in the cities.

Gavin let out a mirthless laugh.
As humans. Masquerading like we’re one of them. Not being who we are.

We knew from the beginning the concerts wouldn’t work forever on the isle,
Lachlan reminded him.

When dealing with humans,
Bryce added,
they find a way to botch things up.

With supes, too,
Gavin replied.
I’m going to miss playing. All of it.

Agree. From shifting from stone all the way to the end when we unfurled our wings and flew
, Calum added.

That’s the only choice,
Lachlan declared, wanting to end this sore topic.
We have more important things to worry about right now than the future of the band.

When he pinpointed the edge of land below, relief swept through him. Although he’d been born and raised on the Isle of Stone, the ancestral hold of the Highlands pulled at him. Gargoyles had lived there for centuries, embroiled in countless battles between human clans. No matter how they’d intervened to prevent the humans from fighting, humans continued undeterred. Hell-bent on annihilation, they often ended up destroying themselves in the process. No amount of reason could stop a proud, stubborn Highlander.

The gargoyles flew over hills and valleys, barely visible by night. Their acute vision enabled them to discern the sinewy peaks of a mountain range in the distance. They soared by rolling slopes, which softened into gentle planes. A loch rippled with a shimmering gleam, reflecting the celestial bodies above.

Once they passed the body of water, Lachlan pointed to the open expanse of a meadow below.
Land here.

What for?
Bryce replied.

I want to walk the rest of the way.
He wanted to tread the land of his ancestors. Maybe he’d find guidance on the grounds where many gargoyles had sacrificed their lives, caught in battles between clans.

It’s a half a mile up hill.

Lachlan ignored his brother’s protests and landed on the grass with little sound. The varieties of heather surrounded him with their soothing fragrance.

“You’re acting odder than usual,” Gavin pointed out.

“Gathering my thoughts before we show up unannounced.”

Gavin shot him a skeptical glance but didn’t say a word.

Lachlan led them up a hill covered with various types of grass and wild vegetation. Rocks had rolled down the hill, remains of the stone edifice a few hundred feet ahead. They penetrated the greenery and led the way forward to the castle remains where the Calder clan had returned to live. The clan had come full circle. They’d left the Highlands after centuries of battles to find peace on the Isle of Stone. And now they were back to find solitude in the Highlands, southwest of Thurso, near Loch Calder for which they’d taken their name.

The castle had been badly damaged in clan battles, yet the main structure still stood strong and proud. High on the stone walls gargoyles perched as stone. Lachlan would choose the same location, watch for danger while basking under the sun or moon rather than hiding from the world in a dark cavern, the way other gargoyles had chosen to do. His feet became leaden as he led his brothers to the base of the castle. An entrance hidden in the rocks led to the various caverns where many gargoyles rested.

He swallowed the distaste and greeted the gargoyles he recognized guarding the entrance. “We’re here to see my parents.”

“We’ll get them,” the older of the two guards said. “Remain here.”

He disappeared into the darkness of the cave. Lachlan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Calum chit-chatted with the other guard, who was around his age. After minutes passed that stretched like days, their mother and father emerged.

“My boys!” Their mother ran forward, hugging as many as she could in her reach. Since her sons were sizable, she then bear-hugged each one in turn, and then fretted over Calum the way she always did. He was the tallest of them all—and her baby.

His mother’s warm welcome lessened the weight of anxiety tightening the back of his neck into knots. It was like lifting a massive obelisk off his back. Was there anything more comforting than a mother’s unconditional love?

“How good for you to visit,” their father greeted them with a more stoic nod and pat on the back.

When Lachlan asked for a moment with the two of them, their father led them away from the castle and stopped at a cluster of oversize rocks where they had more privacy. Lachlan, Bryce, and their mother followed while the others remained closer to the castle.

“How are things?” their mother asked.

Lachlan ground his teeth, searching for an appropriate response. “Eventful.”

Their father assessed them through a steady gaze. “Your brothers?”

Mason was in love with a tree witch, but that could wait. “No, they’re fine. It’s more of a transition on the isle.”

“What happened?” His mother stepped forward, her voice filled with concern.

His father’s voice was more guarded. “Something with your rock concerts, isn’t it?”

The clan, including his father, was not pleased about the humans treading over the Isle of Stone. They took it as a sign to return to their ancestral homeland in the Highlands while Lachlan and his brothers remained, seeing an opportunity. For the first time, they could play their music as themselves rather than masquerading as humans the way they did touring European cities. Some gargoyles labeled the differences in opinion as a generation gap. Others called Lachlan and his brothers reckless and disrespectful to the ways of their clan.

Yet none of them had ever played on stage, felt the rush from performing. When Lachlan and their brothers picked up instruments in their youth and taught themselves to play, it had opened a new world for them. A creative outlet. A way to express themselves in a way they’d never been able to in the many still hours as they watched from stone.

When Lachlan played bass guitar on stage, he burned with vitality, experiencing a vibrant existence his life had lacked. The need for gargoyles in a world run by technology had changed, and they needed to adapt or they might as well die out like ancient relics. In a way, performing had given him a purpose, just as his new role as alpha had, but in a different way. If he could find a way to continue with both, that was all he’d ever need to live a meaningful life.

“No, Da,” Lachlan answered his father in a measured tone. “There was an incident with the wolf shifters.”

“You battled them?”

“No. Let me explain.” Lachlan summarized what had happened with the wolves attacking the humans with as few details as possible. He rushed to the point where all had agreed to make peace and restore the veil.

His father wasn’t having it and fixated immediately on one of the details Lachlan tried to gloss over. “Mason is living with a tree witch!”

That was why Lachlan didn’t ask Mason to come. The news would overshadow the more pressing matter.

A small grin appeared on his mother’s face, which she erased. The news didn’t disturb her the same way it did his father. She was likely relieved one of her sons had finally settled down with someone, something she’d been pushing them to do for years. Even if it had ended up being with another species.

“Aye, but we have more pressing matters, right now,” Lachlan replied, trying to keep his voice calm despite the sense of urgency. “We need to work with the wolves and witches to restore the veil.”

“Are you telling me my
son
is living with a
tree witch?”
his father boomed. “And you’ve agreed to make peace with the witches and the wolves? I knew you boys were reckless, Lachlan, but you’re the eldest. I figured you leading them would give you some sense of responsibility. Not throw yourself in with the witches and wolves!”

Bryce muttered, “But, Da—” but their father cut him off.

“All of you,” he admonished, holding his index finger aloft.

Lachlan addressed his father.
“
You’re right. And as the new alpha on the Isle of Stone, I’ve done what’s best for our clan. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of Mason with a tree witch, myself. But we’ve discovered how kind Kayla is, not evil like we’ve heard the witches to be. She not only helped the wounded humans after the attack, but gargoyles, too.”

“One of you has finally settled down,” their mother said. “I thought it would be with one of his kind, but what matters is he’s happy.”

Would she be as accepting to a wolf shifter? Wait, why was he thinking such things? All he’d shared with Raina was a kiss. He’d kissed countless lasses, a different one every night if possible. Shaking that thought loose, he assured her. “Mason loves her, and they’re happy together.” He addressed both his parents. “We come to you with a more urgent matter.”

His father gauged him with a steady gaze. “What is it?”

Lachlan straightened to his full height. This was show time. “I need to learn the magic to restore the veil.”

His father let out a harsh breath. In a low tone muttered just loud enough for Lachlan to hear, he said, “Either work with witches and wolves, or let humans destroy the island. A no win situation.”

“Da, please,” he implored. “We need your help.”

“Lachlan, you and your brothers courted this by playing for the humans. You didn’t listen to me when I warned you about the danger. Now you want our help? You’re off your head!”

Although Lachlan had expected this reaction, the verbal slap made his gut drop. “The humans had already discovered the island. We simply moved our concerts there instead of running around all of Europe and hiding who we are. Why wouldn’t we? Music is our passion. Besides it’s our island, not the humans’. We should be able to run it by our rules.”

“If you feel that way, you should be able to figure a way out of it on your own.”

Bloody hell.

“We left the Isle of Stone for a reason.” His father paced with plodding steps, appearing to pound his frustration into the earth. “Had enough of the damn humans traipsing all over our land. And when we left, we left the problems with the others there, as well.”

“We just need the magic to be able to repair the veil—”

“To work with the tree witches and wolf shifters. Perhaps you don’t remember there’s a reason we divided the island to begin with.” He wagged a massive finger. “A battle in which many gargoyles were killed by those evil witches.” The last word came out with some spittle that landed on a nearby rock.

“Which began from a misunderstanding, we’ve learned.”

“From who?”

“The alpha of the wolf shifters.”

“How in bloody hell would he know anything?”

“He said both the gargoyles and witches tried to recruit the wolves to their side. It wasn’t the witches that triggered the battle between all; it was one witch who cursed the gargoyles, preventing reproduction.”

His father made a clucking noise to show his skepticism. “I’d be careful to believe anything a wolf shifter said.”

“But it all makes sense,” Lachlan persisted. “The battle never should have escalated like it did. Too much reaction. Better communication might have led to less bloodshed.”

Seconds ticked by with a heavy drumming in his head while he awaited his father’s response.

“Enough, Lachlan,” his father spoke crushing words. “Time to return to your clan, come back to your roots.”

Although he loved the Highlands, his home was the Isle of Stone, and he relished their new freedom with him as alpha these past few months, despite the mountain of responsibilities and considerations. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

“We’ve started anew again here,” his father said. “A couple of the females are pregnant.”

Reproduction had been a sensitive topic with the gargoyles since the battles. The clan had been pushing Lachlan and his brothers to mate with female gargoyles for many years.

“I’m returning to the Isle of Stone,” he declared, making his intentions clear.

His father pounded his heavy fist on a boulder, one sure to hurt no matter his strength.

“Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t,” he said. “You need to go to Duncan to learn magic that powerful.”

Not Duncan. The weight of his father’s words settled with a resounding thud in Lachlan’s gut. He was hoping to avoid seeing the alpha of the gargoyles. Many thought Lachlan proud and stubborn, but he was tame in comparison to Duncan. But what other choice did he have but to follow his father’s suggestion?

“I will.”

A heaviness weighed Lachlan’s steps as he and Bryce returned to the guards where Gavin and Calum had remained.

Anything?
Calum asked telepathically.

No. I have to talk to Duncan.

Bugger,
Gavin said.

Exactly. Lachlan asked to speak to Duncan and paced the trodden earth while waiting for the guard to return with a response. Would Duncan even talk to him?