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The breezes of the night were not at full force, strong enough to remove the cloak hoods of wool from the heads of passerbys, nor was it soft and gentle. The occasional gusts of wind were strong enough to blow hair out of place from where it was tied into braids and to tease at cloaks, gowns, and loin cloths.

The wind from the forest near the castle carried the scent of pine and damp wood. Leaves and petals danced through they sky before gently falling to the grass covered ground. The wind sounded like it howled half the time but it did not whoop and cheer; those sounds came from the trio of gargoyles gliding back to the castle.

"We are officially warriors," the bright red gargoyle cheered as he lead his two rookery brothers. His small team were the first of half the clan sent to scare a way a small group of Vikings that were bothering a nearby village. "We each knocked a Viking onto it’s back and there are witnesses."

"Why do you care if there are witnesses," the smallest of the three asked. His wings were the most noticeably different than the other two. The membrane of leather like flesh was connected from wrist to ankle with a signal wing rib in the center. Because of his small size and aerodynamic physique he could glide faster than his rookery brothers.

"A youth is not deemed a warrior until he or she has upset the enemy," the largest of the trio glided much lower than his brothers. His aqua colored skin was paler than the others and made him more noticeable in the dark. "In order for the deed to be validated he or she must have a witness, whether they be human or another gargoyle."

"Exactly," the smile across the crimson warrior’s beak mimicked the smug tone of his voice. The red gargoyle was the only one of the trio with any hair. His long silky mane extend back from behind the two long horns extend up above the top of his head. His ribless wings were in a curved and angular shape and lined with a dark shade that matched both the night and the top of his wings. The top of the slender wing arms had ended in three claws. "Although I am curious on how you learned it, brother."

"I have been remebering a lot of speeches," the corpulent gargoyle answered. His large stomach jutted out and nearly over took his belt. His ears had an unique fan shape. A row of spiny knobs of flesh ran down the center of his head. "I also know the one our mentor had said over and over. A gargoyle can no longer protect the castle-"

"Than breath the air," the small gargoyle finished for him. His olive colored skin helped him blend in with the leaves and other vegetation, giving him both stealth and speed. "I still don’t understand the first one."

"In a way it makes sense," the crimson youth replied. "Without a witness the proof of the warrior skill might be questioned. I wonder how many times a youth had lied about upsetting an enemy."

"That is why we are separated into teams when we watch over the castle or explore," the smallest gargoyle’s large eyes were not on his rookery brothers, but on the castle and the other half of the clan that staid behind. "We can all validate each other."

"I like the idea of having an gargoyle from an older rookery watch us battle," the aqua colored gargoyle grinned. "I am certain friends have lied for each other in the past."

"I still don’t understand why we have to have theses rites of passage," the web wing shook his head. "What purpose do they have?"

"Tradition."

"Good answer," the crimson gargoyle’s tone was dry. "Gargoyles do not come out of the egg as warriors. They must learn the skill, become stronger," he caught a movement at one of the battlements lining the wall near the front entrance. "And have it ready when you want to impress someone." He shifted his wings to land next to the female gargoyle who had waved them over.

"Greetings sister," the small gargoyle sat on her other side. "What news do you have for us?"

"No news I’m afraid," she was brown in color, a darker shade than the former leader. Her hair of liquid mercury would have been wild as the second in command's if it hadn’t been for the heather used to keep the locks in place. The stems were looped around near the blossom into hoops and several locks were threaded through several rings. "The activity around the castle has been quite dull."

"What is in the basket?" the heavyset gargoyle pointed at the small basket she had held in her talons. He could smell the aroma of warm honey and different fruits.

"Apples and berries the humans have set on the table in the middle of the courtyard for us." She unfolded her purple wings. A single rib extended down from the wing arms that ended in two claws. An extra strut of crescent shaped leather was on the bottom of each. "There is some honey cakes that I helped the one chef who was born with deaf ears prepare."

"I’m surprised no one else has come to greet us upon our return." the beaked gargoyle watched as several other gargoyles glided to greet the others as they returned from the mission. "We are grateful for you waving towards us."

"They are probably going to those with more experience," she sighed sadly while the wind blew through again, causing several stray hairs to come loose from their bindings and wrapped around the short and curved horns on the top of her head.

"We have experience," the overweight gargoyle beamed. "I knocked a Viking out with his own shield, my beaked brother stabbed one in the shoulder and my smaller brother tripped another on his back."

"Were there any witnesses?" she ignored the smaller gargoyles groan. Her smile returned when the crimson youth held up two fingers. "Then congratulations. Sadly I had to stay behind and was not able to earn the honor of becoming a true warrior."

"You are a true warrior," the small gargoyle told her. "I feel you don’t have to prove your warrior skill to the clan."

"That is kind," she did not look at him, but rather the heavier gargoyle. "Would you mind to tell me about how you became a true warrior?"

"Why certainly," the beaked gargoyle glided over the side first, followed by the others. He sought a spot devoid of any humans. Awning was strewn across several beams of wood to protect the fresh clumps of hay that would have been used to feed the castle’s horses.

"Brothers, you have returned." Two female gargoyles glided down to land in front of the group.

"Greetings sisters," the beaked gargoyle grinned at them. "We were the first to arrive and many of the other residents did not wish to greet us."

"That is not quite fair," the violate colored female said. Her iron colored hair had two braids near the temples. A pair of spiral shaped horns crowned her head. "Just because you haven’t been deemed warriors yet does not mean you should not be congratulated."

"They are warriors," the brown female’s voice was low. The oval shaped bulge at the end of her tail flicked back and forth. "They have recently proven themselves."

"It is true?" the bluish gray female had clasped her hands together. The trio had noticed she had the same skin and hair coloring as the brother mated to the spiritual sister from the generation before theirs. She also had the same structure of horns. Her wings and ears were of a different shape and the end of tail was plain and smooth. "Perhaps they will tell us how they had become warriors."

"We were just about to tell the story," the portly gargoyle sat down on a batch of hay. "Sit down with the rest of us."

The brown female pushed a clump of hay closer to the pale gargoyle sand sat down on it. Her six inch long knee spurs were kept curled back against her thighs as she sat down. She tried not to display the bitter disaprovment she felt too her sisters in her face. They just wanted to hear the tale as well, but it was interfering with her getting closer to the aqua colored gargoyle.

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"I do not understand it mentor," not all the remaning clan members had glided off to greet with their rookery siblings who had fought against the Viking warriors. Two stood at the top of the highest tower. One was a deep blue male and the other a tan elder. Flaxen white crowned the top of his head and formed his beard on his chin.

"What is not t’ understand lad?" the elder gargoyle’s wings had tattered edges. He was dressed in a loin cloth and leather pants. A chest plate of boiled leather and brass shoulder pads was strapped towards him. "I just donae feel comfortable carrying around a weapon all the time."

"You are the most skilled swordsman of all the clan," golden hair streaked with brilliant white was tied back into a pony tail. Three horns crowned his forehead. Two shorter horns were above each eye and a longer one was in the center. The blue warrior was dressed in a simple loin cloth and a leather chestplate with chain like straps over each shoulder. "You have taught us that when fighting an enemy alone a sword, or a spear, or a cross bow is the only friend you have."

"Aye," the mentor grinned. It was good to see how many of the younger generation took his words to heart. "But a great warrior does not need a weapon to get out of every situation, but relies on his strength, his talons, his skills and knowledge."

"Should I cast aside my halberd?" the blue gargoyle stared at the weapon in his talons. The thick wooden handle ended in both the sharp tip of a spear and the wedge shape blade of an ax. He had grown accustomed to always having his weapon by his side for the past four years. At every dawn the weapon would petrify along with the rest of his body.

"Nay lad."

"I understand."

"Old friend and brother," the two of them looked up to see the leader of their clan pull back his dark wings in time for him to land next to them. Standing at seven feet and covered with thick muscles he was an imposing force. The blue gargoyle could imagine a few Vikings immediately quaking at the sight of Goliath. "How were things back at the castle?"

"Slow," the blue gargoyle answered while not removing his gaze from Goliath’s mate. Moonlight reflected off the gold the azure female wore in each ear, wrapped around her upper arm, ankle and her forehead. The metal band sculpted to match with her brow ridge. "I believe our troublesome brother is at it again."

"What has he done this time?" Goliath exhaled deeply from his chest.

"He’s been bullying around a few members of the generation after ours," the blue gargoyle replied. "Almost tripped our younger sister who liked to cook as soon as she stepped from the hidden entrance to the kitchen."

"Ye know he won’t listen t’ me anymore lad," the mentor pointed out. "And even though yer the leader he dosnae take yer orders seriously."

"It would be better if we both spoke to him," Goliath took hold of his mate’s hand, not noticing the pained look on the darker brother’s face. "This will be brief my love."

"I understand my beloved," Goliath’s second in command ran her talons throng her mate’s sable hair.

"We can continue our discussion later," the elder smiled at the blond gargoyle before he spread his wings and took to the air.

"Why didn’t Goliath ask for the help of our troublesome brother with frighting off the vikings," the deep blue male asked as soon Goliath and mentor had glided off the tower in search of the dun gray gargoyle. "Every time Goliath leaves the castle and he is behind he tends to make the others around him unhappy."

"Because our spiritual sister and her mate were with us," the second in command explained. "He would have caused conflict for the rest of us if he had joined."

"How was the mission?"

"I believe that is the question on all our minds," the voice came from the steps leading down towards the caste before the platinum head of the Magus was seen. The tall and lean man stared at the two gargoyles with fear but kept his lips pursed into a scowl. He approached them with a haughty swagger to his steps. "When the princess returns from visiting her uncle, the king, she will expect a status report."

"We were expecting the Captain," the second answered coldly. "Not you."

"The captain is with the rest of his species, congratulating them, on a mission well done," he answered the gargoyle a little too snidely. Both pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "I could relay the message to him if you like."

"I was about to inform my brother that three more youths have achieved the status of warrior," the second hissed. "Something which you do not wish to know. The Vikings have been defeated."

"I have the answer I requested for," the Magus ignored their scowls as he sensed down the steps.

"As often as I disagree with our troublesome brother his is right about one thing," she scowled at the stairway. "This castle would be much better off if there were not any humans."

"I think you may be a bit harsh on the other species," he twisted the halberd around his talons. It was true that most of the castle dwellers gave them little to no respect and he blamed that fact on the Princess. Because of her haughty demeanor to their species, most of the castle workers do not even try to offer a hand of friendship to them.

"A bit harsh?" She clenched her fists. "I have been more than fair with them for the past years. They are the ones who are harsh to us. They insult us instead of repaying us for our help in defending their home. This should be our home. We lived peacefully along the cliffs before they settled here."

"We don’t remember how it was before the humans settled on Wyvern hill," he pointed out. "We were still in the egg when Wyvern tower was constructed for the man known as the Archmage and even before there was still Wyvern village to protect."

"The villagers rarely respect us at all. Some have even thrown rocks at us and called us beasts and here it is worse. We are not allowed to go into some parts of the castle."

"They are not all like that," he took one of her own hands into his, hopingto calm her down. He did not want her to be upset nor hurt. "There is the stable boy who greets us around dusk and even wakes up an extra hour early to talk with us. There is the one cook in the kitchen who cannot hear and bakes us cakes and allows our younger sister to cook, and of course there is the captain."

"The only humans who stand by our side are outcasts within their own. The stable boy is short in height and the cook cannot even hear Goliath’s roar when he wakes up. They know what it is like to be shunned. Gargoyles would never treat our own like that."

"The Captain is praised and not shunned."

"There is always an exception to the rule. Most of them dislike us."

"They treat us with contempt’s because of the Princess," he continued to rub her hands. She was so beautiful and Goliath would never take the time to listen to her and try to reason with her. He had an iron will against the temptation to stroke her hair in the fear of what she may tell Goliath. "The villagers do not know us well."

"Maybe it would be better if the Princess and her Magus were gone," she smiled at him.

"That I will agree with you," he stepped back from her, basking in the glow createdby her smile. With a heavy heart he turned to face the direction Goliath had glided off in. He felt as if he couldn’t resist her beauty any longer and had to cast his gaze away.

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The warm breezes of a dying summer were shifting to a crisp and cool temperature as they blew the thick clouds across the night sky. There was no chance of any showers at that night, nor any warning of a possible thunderclap. The clouds took up half the sky, occasionally blotting out the moon.

The weather for that evening was comfortable and almost inviting for the clan of gargoyles who lived in the ancient castle, brought over abroad from Scotland, and rebuilt on top of the tallest buildings in the city. The leader of the clan would occasionally stare up at the sky to determine if the weather would be decent enough for them to patrol, or he would ask one of those who did not turn to stone if the weather person on the news had forested any possible thunder storms.

The clan was instructed to eat dinner before rejoining near the tower where Goliath liked to perch for the day. The females would be the last to join the group, taking a brief break to check on the eggs as they were wont to do once a month. After they had spoken to the offspring and ran their hands over the smooth shells they would leave the room.

"Sister, wait," she had once been Goliath’s lover, but the feeling had ebbed over time until it shattered a few nights after the clan reawaken a decade before. Demona had waited until the last two females had left the room, both her bluish gray rookery sister, and the slate gray female from Avalon.

"Is there something wrong?" She had lived through the ages of sword and superstition until the night of the massacre when her stone body was shattered along with most of the clan. Desdemona's spirit was summoned to the cyborg: Coldstone before being placed into a robot and then a clone of her original body. Her wavy hair was the color of chlorine instead of the light blond she had been hatched with. "Goliath is expecting us."

"That is what I want to talk to you about," Demona said. "I don’t think you should go out on patrol tonight."

"Do you think the weather channel might be wrong?" Blond hair that was as wavy as Desdemona’s brushed the gray shoulders of Cecilia. Her green wings were still cloaked across her shoulders and part of it covered the black cloth wrapped around her chest.

"It’s not that," Demona smiled at her. There were times when she still felt guilty because she was used as a solider to attack her clan, even though she was not herself at the time. She also felt partly responsible for the death of her parents. "I just want you to stay."

"Is that all?" Cecilia’s face brightened. She had brushed a stray lock that fell between her unique horns that extended forward and then curled towards the back of her head. "Why don’t you come with us. I’m sure Goliath will have you paired with your mate."

"Patrol?" Demona said the word with a scowl as if she had tasted milk that gone sour. "You want me to help protect the ungrateful humans?"

"Here we go again," the end of Desdemona’s tail twitched in restoration. "I don’t know where we should begin first. Should we tell you how they are not all ungrateful, again? Should we tell you it is our duty to protect, again? where would you like us to start?"

"I understand the fact you feel you have to patrol," Demona scowled. " I don’t understand why you have to go out every night."

"Are you suggesting we take a night off?" Cecilia kept her tone civil. She was not trying to take either side of her elders and wanted to maintain the role of peacekeeper. "Friendship night is in a couple of evenings."

"You only get three nights out of a month off. My mate gets more time off from the precinct."

"You brought up an interesting point," Desdemona’s near smooth brow ridges rose. "Why don’t you ask Matt to stay with you?"

"Because like most males he can be stubborn."

"I understand you want to spend time with the clan," Desdemona turned to face the opposite direction. "If you want to be with the clan then you can come with us."

"I refuse to put my self in the path of a bullet to save a creature who would regard my species as monsters."

"And there are always a few who would thank us," bright amethyst became narrow slits. "Why can’t you let go of this ridiculous hate?"

"I am slowly letting go," Demona closed her eyes. She did not want to loose her temper. "You don’t understand how I’m trying to forget the past. I am no longer killing them. I say let them wipe themselves out."

"You no longer kill any of them. Do you remember any one of them you had killed? No you haven’t. They were just the enemy. You don’t feel guilty about anything you have done."

"That is a lie. You don’t know about how I feel."

"The only ones you feel guilty about are all the gargoyles you help killed," Desdemona turned away from her.

"You don’t have to rescue anyone," Cecilia offered. "You can just glide and watch."

"I used to do that," Once a moth she would follow the clan and stay behind while they rescue some human who would later thank them by screaming and running away. It was how she was able to first notice Canmore’s transformation. "Maybe I should do that more often, but not tonight." She couldn’t explain why she didn’t want to leave the castle.

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The immortal gargoyle raced through the halls of the castle, not stopping at her room. She did not want to work at her computer. She did not stop at the nursery where her sixteen month old daughter was sleeping. Demona felt angry, even though she did not want to be. She felt some of the rage was directed towards her rookery sister, but most of it was herself. It was not the strongest emotion, and guilt wasn’t it either. The most painful feeling eating at her soul was sorrow.

Her destination was one of the old storage rooms that had no windows and only one light fixture, and even she could not be certain it worked. She had placed a few things salvaged from her mansion after Jeremy Houston had launched a small missile at it. They were mostly old relics, a collection of medieval weapons, classic lamps, statues of gargoyles and a few other works of art she did want to distribute around the castle. There were also four statuesque figures strewn about in the room. Two of them were the cold duo. Demona had requested they were to be placed in her storage chamber. The other two statues were of humans. One was of a woman dressed in modern day clothing. She had no arms, resembling a modern day Venus De Milo. They other was of large pieces of a navy soldier lying in a pile.

"I’ve righted two of my wrongs," her gaze was glued to the lifeless cyborg and robot. Lacking any form of possession they relied on basic programming to function. "I just need to fix two more." She shifted her gaze over to the statues. How was she going to fix that mistake? She could always try cloning again, but where would they go? How would they be able to return to the life they once knew and what of their family and friends? She had another idea formulating in the back of her mind, an idea that was going to require the help of a man with a lot of money.

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Sweat poured off of Xanatos’s body. Crystal clear streams trickled down the valleys and peaks of tan flesh that formed his pectoral and abdominal muscles. His saturated hair stuck to his the back of his neck and shoulders while he held onto the foam rubber grip of his treadmill. Fox had decided to attend a cast party for Pride Force. It may be the show’s last season, due to the demand of reality shows. How could anyone be entertained by a group of women trying to win the affection of some pretty boy? All the successful ones develop rip offs. One producer had called him and asked if he was willing to take on several young business school graduates like that one show on NBC.

"Mr. Xanatos," Owen’s knocking on the door had roused the billionaire form his thoughts. "Demona wishes to see you."

"Is there a problem?" Xanatos was more than skeptical when Demona wanted to see him. "I’m almost finished here."

"She says she doesn’t mind talking to you while you run."

"Fine," Xanatos sighed. "Let her in."

The immortal gargoyle did not storm into his bed room like he anticipated, nor did she saunter with a smug poise. She had merely entered.

"Greetings Demona, what gives me the pleasure of speaking with you this evening?"

"Save the smooth talk for the humans you plan on duping," Demona watched him jog. "Are you afraid you are going to loose your boyish figure?"

"I’m getting old," he pressed a button on the machine to slow down the speed. "You might even notice I have stated to show my age. Unlike you, I have yet achieved my goal for immortality."

"Believe me when I say that you don’t want it."

"I don’t?" He slowed down in his steps to a speed walk. "Alex is going to be practically immortal and Fox is going to become immortal as well, with all the spells she is able to do now."

"I can understand your frustration, but I do not want to discuss immortality right now. I came here to ask you for your assistance."

"That would be the most likely reason," he turned the power off his treadmill and stepped onto the floor. "What do you need my help in?"

"You have remembered my main goal when I turned everyone to stone at night?"

"I believe it was to destroy every human in Manhattan."

"I have destroyed several," Demona closed her eyes. "Most of the statues could not be salvageable, accept for two. I want to give them their life back."

"Excuse me?" Xanatos nearly choked on the drink in his sports bottle. "You want to bring a couple of broken statues to life?"

"This is where I’m going to need your help. I need your cybernetics’ team-"

"I know where this is going," Xanatos interrupted. "You want to resurrect them like what we did to Coldstone."

"Yes, and no," her eyes took on a brief glow when he interrupted her. "After I have bonded the cybernetic parts to stone magically and before I summon their souls I will turn their stone to flesh. They would be true cyborgs."

"Who did you have a fight with?" Xanatos grabbed onto a towel he had moisten with cold water before he turned on the treadmill and rubbed his skin with it. "Goliath, Desdemona, or Othello?"

"I do not have to answer that question, although I wonder why you did not include Brooklyn in the group."

"Brooklyn had never caused you to go on a guilt trip." The billionaire took another drink from his sports bottle. "I have the money and manpower to help you, but I want to point out the fact you cannot resurrect everyone you had killed, either directly or indirectly."

"I know I can’t bring back everyone, but I can at least bring back two." Demona clenched her hands. She did not even want to admit she did not want to save every life she had ended and that small number would relieve her of the guilt crushing agaisnt her chest.

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She was a young fashion designer living with her room mate in a small apartment near the village. She had two parents nearing their retirement age in Rhode Island and a cousin from New Jersey who visited every other weekend. Her name was Marcia Santiago and she was a statistic, one of millions living in the city. People who saw her on the street would have described her as a thin woman with short brown hair and dressed fashionably. Only those who were close to her knew she plucked her eyebrows every Friday, how much she hated pantyhose and she liked to store things in cute little boxes she decorated herself.

Marcia’s day off was coming to a close. She had turned off the television. Something was strange about the programming. Instead of her favorite soap opera there was an image of a strange creature with blue skin and wings. A gold tiara kept her wild flame like hair out of her eyes. The female creature was holding onto strange pieces of paper in her talons. One hand waved about her in a wild manner as she kept chanting in an ancient language that was either Latin or Greek, Marcia wasn’t exactly sure

"I better get to Harrio’s," she hoisted her purse strap onto her shoulder. She received a flyer in the morning paper from the store about a sale on winter clothes. She needed a new scarf and probably a new sweater. Marcia planned on buying a sweater for her room mate and cousin. "Better leave her a note." She grabbed the nearest pin and went to scribble a note on the pad of Post It Notes, near the telephone.

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He was a naval officer in his late twenties who was granted leave to visit the city. He had recently achieved the rank of Lieutenant, Junior Grade . His soldiers were scattered through out the city and would meet back at the hotel at eight o clock. He had family in Iowa. His name was Scott Fern, and he was a statistic. The soldiers under him would describe him as tall with strawberry blond hair and a slight tan. His white uniform appeared tight against his muscles. He was a fan of Dean Koontz and drank Heineken when he was off duty.

The image of the azure skinned demoness was plastered on all the screens in every electronics store. Scott at first thought they were showing a movie made only for the Sci Fi channel, except nothing seemed to have been happening. It was just the same actress shouting the same Latin phrases over and over again.

"That is one hell of a make up job," Scott shoved the last piece of the pretzel into his mouth. It was one of the reasons he decided to visit the city in the first place. He loved the warm and soft pretzel from the street vendors that frequented the sidewalks. One of his soldiers claims Philadelphia has better soft pretzels, but he doesn’t believe him. Even if Scott tried one of the pretzels he would have been certain it would not have tasted as good.

"Would have been better if it was actually entertaining," the man standing next to him grunted. "They just show the same thing over and over, and this is where it gets weird. It’s on all the channels."

"Sounds like a prankster who has too much time on their hands," Scott wiped the remaining crumbs from his mouth and threw the napkin along with the sleeve of paper the salty snack came in a wasyebasket.

"You wouldn’t have the time?"

"Yeah," Scott checked his watch. "It’s about ten minutes after four." He unscrewed the cap from his plastic bottle of coke and took a long refreshing drink. He had plenty of time till he had to return to the hotel.

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There were only a few guidelines Demona had given Xanatos. The first was to equip the new parts with some weaponry, just don’t go overboard with the extra features like Jackal and Hyena. The second rule was that he would not tell Goliath or any of the clan.

Every afternoon, Dominique would check into the Eyrie’s cybernetic labs after work, to see how much progress had gone underway. Each new day the were closer to the goal where they would be complete and grafted to the statures. The woman was the easiest to complete. She mainly needed a new pair of arms. Dominique’s instructions were also to give her a pair of wings, not of lightweight steel but of aluminum and canvas. The would be able to open from a storage compartment on her back and spread out to allow her to actually glide.

The male was more difficult. Not only did they have to graft on new parts , they also had to connect the stone pieces together and apply small internal computers.

After the news of their completion had reached her ears she enter the labs. To her surprise the tables the figures were placed on had vanished. "Where are they?"

"They had been placed back into your storage room like you had requested," Xanatos had entered the lab right behind her. "I also had new light fixtures put in the room to help make it easier for you to bring them to life."

"I can’t do it without you," Dominique fought hard to keep her from grabbing Xanatos by the collar. "They won’t be able to survive for long without their cybernetic implants being active. The woman might, but she would be in great pain."

"They don’t need for me to play Dr Frankenstein," Xanatos told her. "The arms are similar to the limbs of Jackal and Hyena, just not as powerful. That is what you requested. They can function on their own and along with the woman’s body."

"And the man?"

"Advancements in technology over the years had improved the reconstruction process. The parts are active on their own and will recognize a primary function once you have brought them to life. It is all up to you."

"I suggest you to lock yourself in your room Xanatos," Dominique approached the door. "If the spell does not work then it will be your head." She kept her gaze fixated on Xanatos as she slipped through the doorway.

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She had chosen to wait until after the sun had gone down. Demona had rarely cast a spell while in her weaker human form of Dominique Destine, and she was not about to start. She had apologized to her mate and promised she would spend some time with their daughter after she had taken care of one small item of business.

She had entered the room carrying a few scraps of paper, containing the oldspells she had stolen. The ones used to turn stone to flesh and summon the soles of those who had passed away long ago.

The statues were placed on the floor in her private storage room, upon their backs with sheets covering them. Demona didn’t glance at them nor did she look into the vacant eyes of Coldstone and Colder. The lifeless cyborg and robot may provide some use in the future.

She had chosen the transformation spell first. The words she spoke were the same ones used before when turning stone scrapings she gathered from Coldstone. The metamorphosis started from the outside first. The stone clothing softened into actual materiel, made of cotton and leather. Their hair softened while strands blew around. Their stone bodies skin became paler in color as they converted back to flesh. The conversion went deeper, transforming the inner dermal levels and bloodvessles, going in deeper to the muscles, bones and internal organs.

Demona paused once the first spell was complete and was greeted by shrill bleeps and trills. It looked like Xanatos was right about the cybernetic parts. She inhaled deeply recalling the words of the spell she had used nearly ten years ago to call forth the souls of her brothers and sister to take residence in the Coldstone body.

She felt drained for only a brief moment. If she were a mere mortal she would have had to sit down. She did not need to rest and watched the two unmoving cyborgs. She knew she had used the exact same words. The air felt color and the hair on the two bodies raised. She saw energy surrounding the bodies. The spell was complete, yet they were not moving.

"Xanatos!" She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind. She did not notice the four pair of eyes glowing with a greenish yellow light behind her.

___________________________________________________________________________

"There you are," one of the few people who could soften Demona’s mood met her halfway to Xanatos’s office. Bright red hair matched well with the deep gold color of his skin. Wings of bronze leather were cloaked across his chest, latching at the double tipped claws. "Patrol is over and I’m ready to give out body massages."

"My love," tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "I nearly killed you."

"A few times," Matt raised his brow ridged at such an unexpected response and reached out for her hand. "That was in the past."

"I could have shattered you when you were stone," She fought hard to keep the rears rolled back. She wanted to lean against his chest and wrap her wings around him, taking in his scent. "I almost killed you with a virus, I-"

"I hate to interrupt you like this," Matt unhinged his wings and pulled her towards him. "The main point is you didn’t. You corrected my from, matching my body to my soul."

"I transformed you against your will and had you taken to my mansion."

"We made love for the first time." His wings folded around her back. "We fell in love and became mates. We have two beautiful children."

"I was in heat and you were not a gargoyle long enough to control yourself."

"We were meant to be together. You are the best thing that happened to me." His words were the trigger that allowed the tears to fall. He wiped away one off her cheek with a finger. "I love you."

"You, Charlie, Holly and Angela, are the best things in my life." She curled her talons back and rubbed her knuckles against his brow ridges. "I love you. I want to make amends with what I have done in the past."

"And you are."

"I have tried, and I have failed," she broke free from his embrace. "I’m sorry my love. I need to be alone for a little while." She didn’t look at him as she ran down the hallway.

__________________________________________________________________________

There was light, a beautiful light that had surrounded her being. It was the only memory she had. All else she knew was she was on a cold metal table and her arms were in pain. She opened her eyes to see the darkness that surrounded her. Where was she, and why was it so dark? She tried to sit up and slipped, falling on her back. That was strange. When did she get a backpack? She had shopping bags, but not a back pack. Shopping? Yes, she was at the sweater sale.

"Liiiiiight?" the voice came from the bed next to hers. The man’s voice came off weak and dry, like he had been in a coma for a few years.

"H-h-heeeellllooo?" Her own voice sounded just as weak. Was she in a coma? It might explain why she hardly had any memories. She tried to sit up slowly at first, the blanket that covered her slid down. "Heellooo?"

"W-whooo?" the man answered back.

"W-wheeerrre arrre weee?" She ran her hands down her legs to see if she may have been strapped in. Her sense of touch felt different, heighten somehow and the ache in her arms had faded away. "Mmmy arrmmss f-feelllss d-diffferentt."

"Whhhooo arr you?" the body on the table next to her’s slowly rose.

"Mmy namme is Mmarcia," she turned to see who she was roomed with. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see the outline of the man sitting next to her. He seemed to have been more bulky in some places. His left shoulder stuck out further than his right, His right arm seemed thicker and there was a bulge on his back, not a cyrved hump, more of a square shape. "Wwhat iss yourr name?"

"Lllieutenantt Ssscott Ffferrrn," he looked down at himself and then her. "I cccannttt ssee yyou cllearrly. Tthere arre wwordsss in mmy eyess."

"Wordss?" She was having an easier time trying to communcate than he was. Maybe he was in a coma a lot longer than her. "Were you in a coma?"

"Iii don’tt rrrememmberrr."

"Don’t try to move," she moved her legs to the side and slowly moved till she was racing the opposite side of her companion. In the corner of her eye she could make out the outline of a door. "I’m going to get the light."

She slid out of the table, careful as not to fall. Her toes touched the ground first, followed by the balls of her feet and then her heels. She continued to hold onto the side of the table even though it felt strange. She let go of the cool sides the second her knees stopped wobbling and did not move for a minute.

The first step she took was slow, gradually raised her foot before she moved it forward and brought her weight down. The second step was a little more faster and by her third step she felt she was actually walking.

"Sorry you had to wait," Marcia’s fingers rubbed against the wall, trying to find the light switch. She could tell the wells were made out of blocks of stone, like the ones they used to make castles and classic walls in the English countryside. She flipped on the light switch as soon as she found it. "I want to make sure my legs work before I hurried through. I think we both were in a coma."

"Tthank you," with the light on she could clearly see he wasn’t a hunchback. The square shaped bulge was a metal backpack grafted onto him. His left shoulder down to the middle of his chest was made out of silver and red metal. His right arm from the elbow down was encased in blue metal. His throat was silver. The most disturbing feature was his face. His whole forhead was covered in a silver metal plating and it extended down to his upper lip on the right side of his face The metal plating reminded Marcia of the Phantom’s mask. His right eye had a covering of clear glass with a dark gray iris.

"What are you?" Marcia felt herself being pressed against the door. Beyond the strange creature she saw two other machines. The first looked like Scott, except it was designed to look more like the strange creature that had taken over the airways. The other was pure machine. She noticed the artwork in the room. Several of the paintings were on the disturbing side. "Where am I?"

"Your arms," Scott blinked his left eye. He stared at his own hands, taking in the new cybernetic parts. "W-what have they dddone?"

"My arms?" Marcia held out her own arms in front of her. Instead of limbs of flesh and blood she stared at hands more fitting for a robot. Metallic white extended past her elbow. There were lines, creating long rectangles down the center of each forearms. Pentagon shaped cracks were on the backs of each hands and rings around her fingers. Her first instinct was to scream, but having no voice she went on the second instinct: to get out of the room as fast as she could.

________________________________________________________________

Demona had felt she had glided out far enough from the castle to land. She hated running off on her mate like that, but she couldn’t be near him. His words of affection. His warm touch and the fact he had forgiven her for all she had done weighed down on her. How could he have loved someone like her? She who’s magic only succeeds when she was using it for darkness.

"I used the exact same spell," she paced around on top of the building. "the exact same spell on Coldstone." the words were the same. After she had lost Coldstone and left Xanatos’s castle she copied the words to the spell on another piece of paper, and later typed it up. She could not blame Xanatos for it’s failure. "I brought back the souls of Coldstone to use for revenge. I tried to brink those two humans back because I’m sorry." Maybe if she felt like she was doing more for the clan by creation two new soldiers to help fight the Unseelie, she would have succeeded.

________________________________________________________________

The spell had been a success. Staring down on the city streets below, Demona could see statues everywhere. Lines and lines of humans that had been petrified into still forms. She didn’t know where to start, or where to land. How many humans would she be able to slaughter that night? How many of them she would be able to destroy from weeks on? After she would be rid of every human in New York she could find a way to make it national.

"I’ll just start right here," Demona landed in the middle of the street, a few inches a way from a couple of cars that had crashed into each other. How many stone humans had become smashed or broken during the crash? She didn’t know the answer to that question although she would have enjoyed knowing the exact numbers.

"Now to pick a starting point," Demona pointed at several statues with her mace. Perhaps if she started by using that game humans used when trying to make a decision. She quickly pushed that thought out of her head. There were a few ideas humans had created that were actually useful. She would rather use on of them than something stupid. She decided to use a more logical attic

"I’ll just start with you," she glared at the statue closest to her. He was a human soldier by the way he was dressed and was carrying a bottle of something in his hand. Too bad he was never going to drink from it again.

Demona picked up her mace and brought it down on his left shoulder, smashing away at the joint, and removing the arm. His left hand was the only thing to break as it landed. She broke of his right arm around the elbow and cut off his head. With another swipe she bisected his main body. The last two smashes were in his legs. The first was his right knee and the second was his entire left leg. She stepped back to severe her work, not bad. She was going to save the first one as a trophy to highlight her night. Would she keep the pieces in a piles and displayed on a bright piece of fabric, or pherhaps she would attempt to put the pieces together. She will decide on that detail later after she had made her way to the studio. She took note of the adresses and it’s exact location. She will probably pay someone to deliver her treasure to her mansion.

________________________________________________________________

The blue warrior thought he had seen his sister glide down towards the bottom of the cliff. Her beautiful azure skin tone matched against the horizon. Was his vision correct or was he seeing things Her bright red hair contrasted against the rest of the night. There was no doubt he saw her red hair as well as her bautiful form. He was also certain she was trying to speak with his spiritual sister and her mate, but couldn’t get the words out. It didn’t matter. Sunlight was approaching.

SYSTEM ACTIVATE

What were those words that roused him from peace. He remembered sunlight approaching, and darkness, and even something else he could not place.

"Wait, don’t run!" the voice of the human shouting out was the only sound he heard. Where were the familiar roars of his brothers and sisters as they woke up? Why didn’t he roar? Who was that human who had jsut shouted? The questions kept filling his mid while he heard the sound of metal shields falling against stone in a repeated rhythm. There was another sound that accompanied it. A sound he could not place. Did they wake up as the Vikings were attacking the castle? If so then where were his brothers and sisters?

VISUAL ON

The words glowed white in a sea of darkness before he opened his eyes. He could see and hear, and in a way feel. He could tell his body was slumped against a wall, although he did not know where he was. Almost instantly several words in tiny print shot up in his field of vision, moving as fast as the river after a strong storm. He should not have been able to understand those words, the print wasn’t anything like the words the lovely second in command showed him when she taught him to read, yet he was able to understand all of it. He knew he was in a storage room and how warm it was and what each work of art was.

"Well that answers that question," he paused after he spoke. Why did he have the voice of his rookery brother? He sounded just like the grayish blue warrior with long white hair. The one who questioned Goliath’s role as leader and was mated to their spirtual sister.

A quick movement to his left brought his attention to where a statue helmed out gold was positioned in the same slumped form agaisnt the wall he found himself when he woke up. It was crafted to resemble a female gargoyle. Whoever the artist was should have been paid in a cart filled with coins of gold and sister. His exquisit details had captured the exact likenesss of his spiritual sister.

For almost a second he thought it had moved. It’s golden head lowered. Nay, the statue was placed a in a position where it hadn’t completely settled. It seemed like it would make sense, unless it was ensouled.

"Why hadn’t I roared when I awoken?" the voice that came out the statue did not match that of his spiritual sister, but more of a female from a younger rookery. It had almost sounded like the female who enjoyed to bake and cook."And why am I in this room?"

"Are you an enchanted statue?" he pointed at the gold statue and looked around the room. Who ever had put them there did not give him his preferred weapon. "Does your master know who put me in this room and covered parts of my body with armor?

"Master?" the statue turned it’s face toward him. Even her facial features resembled that of his rookery sister. "Brother, what have they done to you?"

"I do not exactly know who you or, or what they have done to me." He stared at his hands. One was of gray solid stone and the other seemed be constructed of metal. He reached around to feel his wings. They were solid metal. No wonder he couldn’t cloak them. "What has happened to me?" He rose to his feet, a new variety of foreign sounds was heard. The second he menatally asked what they were a new list of strange words had occupied his vision. "What has happened to me? Why are we no longer perched on the battlments?" He turned to face the golden statue again. "What in the name of the dragon are you?" More words flashed across his vision, larger than before.

ROBOT IDENTIFY: COLDFIRE

"What is a robot?" He could understand how the word was read and how it sounded. He did not have to struggle to form the word in his mouth.

"I do not know the answer to that question. I do not know what is a cyborg."

"Cyborg?" Again he did not have to struggle with trying to pronounce the word.

"It is what it called you, along with the word Coldstone." She pointed at him and quickly withdrew her hand. "What has happened to me?" Her words were full of panic. "Why am I covered in gold armor?"

"This is not a statue, but member of my clan who was ensorceled as well?" He grabbed the bottom of his chin. "I would almost say it is my spiritual sister, but you do not sound like her."

"She is the one of dark gold skin and the best archer of the clan?" She waited for him to nod. "Then I am not her and I believe you are not her mate despite how you look and sound."

"I not only sound like my brother but I also look like him?"

"I am from the rookery after yours. I am the female who is an apprentice to the cook with deaf ears."

"You sound exactly like her," he nodded. He envisioned the dark brown female who was always sneaking off towards the kitchen."I am from Goliath’s rookery. My skin is dark blue and I often fought with a halberd in my talons."

"I know who you are," she grabbed him by the arm. "That still does not answer my questions on how we got in here, or what has happened to our bodies, or where the rest of the clan is."

"I suggest we look for them. We are still at the castle." The stone walls and floor resembled those of the kind that Castle Wyvern was made out of. When he had wondered if they were in the astle for certain more strang words scrolled down his vision, confirming they were in one of the castl’s rooms.

"I agree let’s split up. We can meet back here."

"I have reaerly stepped inside the castle. I might get lost."

"We could claw in notches when we make a turn. I am a bit more worried on how to explain to the humans who live here and the rest of the clan on who we are."

"I would also like to found out how we came to be in these vessles and how," He stared at his strange hands. "We can find someone to change us back to normal, like The Magus." Hopefully he would be able to convince the arrogant human to help him and the younger female.

________________________________________________________________

"Your train of thought is running," the silky and warm voice of his wife reached the billionaires ears.

Xanatos only answered with a blink of his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling from their bed. His arms were folded, cradling his head instead of the pillows which he pushed to the side. He wore no shirt or pants, almost naked save for his silk boxers.

"Not going to say anything?" Fox brushed her finger tips against his chest. Her strawberry blond hair swept against her pale shoulders and down her back. She had chosen her blue, gauzy nightgown. The material came down to her wisest and ankles.

"I’m still mortal," David inhaled deeply. "I haven’t thought about it for a while, but I’m getting older Fox. I no longer count gray hairs, but spots of gray. I’m noticing more lines on my face."

"You look distinguished," she crawled on top of him. She had worn her red satin panties to bed, but forgone the matching bra. "I have a few gray hairs myself."

"You can make those go away," eyes of amber were locked with her pale blues. "I can’t."

"I can find a way to make you as immortal as me, but I don’t want it. I want to live only for a few years after you die. We don’t know how immortal Alex is."

"Mr. Xanatos," Owen’s knocking of the door caused Fox to roll off her husband. "Mr. Xanatos, we have a problem."

"I’ll be right there, Owen." Xanatos slipped out of bed and grabbed the bath robe hanging off the back of a chair. He had slapped it on just before he opened the door.

"I have caught sight of two strange individuals wandering about," Owen answered soon as the doors were opened.

"Were they both cyborgs?" Xanatos used the cloth belt to keep his robe closed across his chest. "One female with only a cybernetic attachment to her back and arms and the other a male?"

"You know something about this?" Owen looked both surprised and hurt Xanatos had kept a secret from him.

"Looks like I don’t have to fear Demona hunting me down," Xanatos chuckled. It looked like the spell and her project turned out to be a sucess. "She wanted to bring back two of the people she killed when she caused everyone to turn into stone."

"Like Coldstone?"

"She had kept the two statues that were in the best shape."

"Why didn’t she stay?"

"That is what I want to know," Xanatos put a finger to his bottom lip. "These two individuals have been dead for nearly ten years. The last thing that was on their minds was the sun setting."

"And when they woke up their bodes had changed," Owen nodded. "We need to find them before they come across any members of the clan."

"Where did you see them?"

"The cameras had picked them up outside of Demona’s private storage room. I have something else to inform you I checked inside her room Coldstone and ColdFire are also missing."

"Why would they be missing?" Xanatos raised his eye brows.

"I’m not certain."

"Do you have any possible theories?" Any thought of a romantic night with his wife was erased.

"I may have to hear the words of the spell, but there is a possibility that Demona’s own emotions had heavily influenced the spell. She may have also brought a couple of extra souls over by accident and they have taken up residentcy in the Cold Duo."

"Instead of two confused souls we have four," Xanatos turnd towards the bed to offer her a sympathetic smile. "I’ll be with you in a few minutes." He was going to have to put on a few more article of clothing before he could assit Owen with the search.

________________________________________________________________

His vision was filled with scrolling words. Words that moved faster than he should have been able to read, but he was able to process it all. There was information on his temperature and blood pressure and information of the place he was in, details of the type of stone used, the height and temperature. It grew annoying fast.

"Off," Scott Fern grunted. He cradled his head with his hands. Both of them could sense the metal of his face and the hair on his head and the metal parts of his face could sense the touch of his hands. Why couldn’t the scrolling words stop? If he truly was in charge of his new parts he should be able to turn it off. He imagined his organic brain telling the computer in his head to stop with the information. He removed his hands and opened up his organic eye. The scrolling words had stopped.

"Why me?" He continued to walk through the castle. He was still not used to his new legs. His right leg had a cybernetic knee put in, along with a boot shaped foot that was almost twice as large has his original foot, surpisingly it was not nearly as heavy as he had anticipated it would be. His entire left leg was robotics. Did the navy hand choose him to become a cyborg. Was he changed to become a weapon for good? "I need to stop watching those movies."

"You don’t have to keep fooling me, girl," the gruff voice came from around the corner. "I may have a few wounds in my wing, but they will heal in a few days."

"Hello?" Scott turned the corner. He nearly froze at what stood before him. The creature resembled the strange robot like construction that was kept in the room he had awaken in, but this was no statue or machine. It was a living breathing creature. It wasn’t alone, standing next to him was a greenish brown creature that resembled a dog. "What the hell?" He could not believe what he was seeing, even after what he had already witnessed that night.

"What in the name of the dragon are you?" The black creature stood about six inches taller than Scott’s new body. A pair of thin horns, curving towards the back of it’s head, had swept up and kept it’s long blond hair from tumbling in his face. He had pair of large bat shaped wings with an ivory white lining. His long thick tail nearly tappered at the end but then thicked into a perfectly round sphere

"What are you" Scott slowly backed up. New words were filling his vision.

CREATURE IDENTIFY: GARGOYLE

"What are you doing in my castle home?" The gargoyle’s eyes lit up, glowing with a ruby tinted fire. It’s large hands curled into fists

"Your home," Scott tried to ignore the growling of the dog like creature that had accompanied the gargoyle.

CREATURE IDENTIFY: GARGOYLE BEAST

"Stay back," Scott held out his arms in defense. He knew he should be displaying more bravery, being a solider and all. He kept his eyes on both gargoyles, not noticing a small lazer gun had exited his arm through a covered opening. "What the hell is is."

The the end of the lazer’s slender barrel lit up with a brilliant red light before his fired a non projctile beam, straight for the two gargoyles.

The black gargoyle had dove to the side at the instant the weapon went off His talons sank into the stone wall to hold him there. The dog like beast had charged forward and leapt onto Scott’s chest, with enough force to knock the cyborg onto his back. Scott’s only retaliation was to keep the snapping jaws of the beast from tearing at what remaining flesh had on his face by holding up his arm with the lazer. The small weapon had retracted into the it’s storage chamber by Scott’s will.

"Boudicca!" The winged gargoule grabbed the dog like creature around the middle and pulled her off the Cyborge’s chest. The beast kept snarling until her master had placed a large hand on top of her head. "I believe he didn’t mean for it to go off."

"I didn’t even know it was there," Scott slowly returned to his feet.. " I don’t want to be here. I woke up in this dark room, on a surgical table. It was dark."

"I’m not going to hurt you," the light in the gargoyle’s eyes dyed down as he reached for the former human.

"This is not happening," He took one look at the sharp claws of the gargoyle and turned around, ignoring the protests from the beast.

________________________________________________________________

The sound of the lazer going off was the first sound picked up by th ears of the over seven foot lavender gargoyle. The second was the fierce barking and snarls from one of the gargoyle beasts and something large falling on it’s back.

"There’s a struggle," Goliath spoke to his companion before quickening his pace.

"Sounds like either Boudicca or Bronx is trying to take care of it," Lexinton had dropped to his fours in order to follow his leader. They had recently returned from patrol along with Cecilia. The grayish female had gone in search of someone to challenge a game of skiball with while Goliath and Lexington went towards the Computer room to check on the network and perhaps play a few games

"I am not going to hurt you," Goliath had heard the words of his rookery brother as he continued down the hall.

"What is going on?" the web wing gargoyle paused in his tracks. "Who is Othello talking to?"

"Someone down there," the clan leader pointed at the end of the hall and walked quickly towards the tapestry of fauns and nymphs dancing in a green field on the wall.

"This is not happening," the stranger’s voice was heard before a something nearly barreled into the lavender giant. The hulking mass was almost as tall as the clan leader and stood on feet of steel. One leg was completely made out of metal and plastic The silver thing and shin was covered with birght crimson top while the knee was caped with a round sphere of black metal. His right leg appeared to have been covered in white material. The same material covered most of his torso save for the bit of silver near the bottom and weare the bulging metal left shoulder and chest. One hand had a square shaped plating of silver covering the middle of the back of his hand and connected to the wrist and forth and fifth finger, both cybernetic.

"Who, a what?" Goliath had difficulty trying to form the words on his mind. He stared at the man’s cybernetic parts, including his right arm with a covering similar to what cColdstone had to conceal the small lazer and the robotic half of his face He didn’t know how to speak to the cyborg. It appeared it did not want to harm them, in fact he looked frightened.

The stranger paused in his tracks at the second he came in contact with Goliath’s chest and stared up into the surprised face. "More gargoyles?"

"Another cyborg," Lexington had stepped to the side to avoid being trampled over by the stranger The smaller gargoyle stared at the former human with admrration of how the being was created. "Did Xanatos create him?"

"Maybe we should ask him ourselves," Goliath held a hand out in front of Lexington to keep him from asking further questions that might embarrass or frighten the cyborg.

"How many are there?" Scott shook his head. He studied the form of Goliath, taking in the size before glancing over the smaller one "Are they all in this castle?"

"Don’t let him get away," Othello’s deep voice was echoed before the ebony gargoyle approached the cyborg from behind. The sound of his voice and foot steps were enough to cuase the former human to turn around "He is frightened. I think he did not wish for this to have happened."

"I don’t want to be like this," the cyborg stared at the ground, his arms trembled. "I’m not a terminator, I’m not a Robocop, and I’m not supposed to be afraid. I’m a Lieutenant, Junior Grade  in the U.S. Navy." He spun around to face Goliath again.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself," Lexington used his most soothing tone. "Even the most powerful warriors can be frightened at times, and you are a warrior."

"I’m a soldier," the fomer human shook his head.

"It is almost the same," Goliath wanted to reach out and grab his shoulder, but he did not know how the cyborg would react. He might even fire weapons at them, weather it was intentional or not. "I would have been as equally as scared if I were in your condition."

"Were you once human? Did the Government create us to be the perfect weapons?"

"We are and always were gargoyles," Goliath remembered the last time he was asked that question. It came from Maggie after she had awakened in the clock tower. Goliath could still see the frightened look in Maggie’s eyes at the time. It was the same look in the cyborg. "We believe you were created by the same man who owns this castle."

"Who is he?"

"David Xanatos," Lexington answered. "We want to help you. Just tell us your name."

"Scott," he closed his eye. "Lieutenant   Scott Fern of the United States Navy."

"I was in your condition once," Othello spoke slowly. "I was gliding around the castle along with my mate until the sun would rise. We were hoping our leader and teacher would make it back. Then there was sunrise and we went to sleep, after that there was nothing."

"Nothing?" The cyborg had calmed down slightly. "do you mean like a darkness?"

"That is correct. Then I was on a table and in a room with sorcery I could not comprehend at the time along with a man named Xanatos and my rookery sister. They had taken my dead form, along with the parts of other gargoyles put it back together with cybernetic parts and used more sorcery to put my soul and the souls of two others inside."

"How did you become all gargoyle again?" Scott’s voice fumbled for the right choice of words.

"More sorcery," Othello replied. "My mate and I recieved new bodies and names. She is called Desdemona and I am called Othello."

"I remembered a darkens too, but it was after sunset. I remember being cold and dark and some form of a light."

"Did you see anything before sunset?" Something about Scott’s story was quite familiar to Goliath. "A strange video of a female gargoyle uttering the same phrase in latin over and over?"

"I remeber seeing the video of the gargoyle," Scott nodded. "She was pale blue in color and had hair like fire."

"I think I know what happened," Lexington’s brow ridges met as he pieced together the clues from Scott’s stories. "Are there more of you?"

"I think there is just me," his trembling slowed down. "Except there is Marcia, but she isn’t a cyborg, she just had the robotic arms. She ran off when she saw me." He stared at his hands again. "I don’t blame her."

"We are going to need to find her," Goliath carefully took Scott’s almost human hand. "As well as Xanatos and Demona. They owe us some answers."

"Demona?" Scott’s good eye blinked "Do you all have names?"

"In this century," Lexington answered. "My name is Lexington," he pointed towards his leader. "This is Goliath and you have already met Othello and Boudicca."

"Boudicca," Scott smiled weakly at the dog like creature. She had follwed behind Othello and while she no longer growled at the former human she did not offer the most friendly expression.

"We can have her sniff out those we are searching for," Othello gave the beast a gentle pat while offering Scott a grin.

________________________________________________________________

Marcia ran through the castle. Her legs hurt, but she could not stop until she either found someone to help her, or if she had found the elevator. Everywhere she turned there were more of those winged creatures. Luckily she did not come across those beasts in person, but noticed where they were by peeking into rooms and seeing the lager monsters move about in the rooms as if they had owned the place. It was not the wings or the tails that had frightned Marcia the most, but the side of their hands ending in sharp curved talons.

Marcia knew she was in modernized castle and when she took a look out the window she knew which castle. There had to be an elevator somewhere around. She could ride it down and find the authorities.

"What am I going to tell them?" Marcia looked at her hands again as continued to walk. "I’m going to tell them that one second I was on my way home from shopping and the next thing I wake up with my arms replaced by these things?" She did not know how to explain what happened in between. She had only faint memories of light, and music and laughter. It was a beautiful feeling.

Marcia braced herself when the door in front of her opened and felt a great weight fly off her shoulders when a human woman stepped outside. She didn’t look like anyone Marcia would have normally socialed with. She wore too much eye make up and her bangs where dyed pale blue. The rest of her brass colored hair was swept back and kept in a simple ponytail. Her stomach bulged slightly, indicating she was in the earliest stages of her pregnancy

"Your new," the woman blinked as she tried to size up Marcia. Hery eyes lingered on Marcia’s arms and the way her eyes were wide told the former human she was staring at her cybernetic enhancments.

"Oh thank God," she threw herself at the woman, taking extra care not press herself against the other woman’s protuding stomach. "We have to get out of here, there are so many strange monsters living here."

"Whoa, no touchy!" Jam pushed her off. "I don’t know you lady."

"There are winged monsters living here," Marcia felt tears filling her eyes. "I don’t know how I got here. They took my arms." She held her hands out in front of the woman. The rectangle on her left raised split down the middle to allow a small lazer gun to pop up. "What is going on?"

"Oh Kay," the woman stepped away from Marcia. "You might want to put that lazer away."

"I don’t know how," Marcia pushed down on the lazer. The weapon resisted her force and slid back into her arm on it’s own. "I don’t know how these things work and what this thing on my back is."

"Maybe we should begin from the beginning. Tell me everything you remember."

"I would like to know your name."

"I am called Jam," she grabbed Marcia by the hand. "follow me to the living room. it’s the next door over."

"You live here?"

"It’s my home and the home of my family," Jam opened the door to the room and motioned for her to sit at the couch. There was no one inside the room except for them. "One of those winged monsters is my mate and the father of my children."

"One of them is your mate?" Marcia stared at Jam’s stomach. She was carrying the hybrid creature of one of them. "You slept with it willingly?"

"My mates name is not it," Jam narrowed her eyes. "His name is Frank. He is a weregoyle to be exact. During the daytime he is human. The gargoyles are also my faimly. They are not monsters, but sentient beings like you and me. Frank and I already have a daughter."

"I don’t know what to say," Marcia stared over her shoulder to see if anyone was approaching them. "I just want to get out of here."

"We have a lot to cover," Jam closed the door behind them. "What should I call you?"

"Marcia, my name is Marcia." She took in her wurroundings. There was a large screen television on one side of the room with both a vcr and a DVD player. A PS2 was placed on one side of the television. Theere was a large couch, an armchair and love seat set in front of the couch at and placed in angles that would allow the peope sitting down a good view of the television. There was a coffee table with several scratches placed in front of the couc

"Okay begin with everything, including the weather and the date."

"It was a slightly cool November afternoon," Marcia sat down. She felt the metal box on her back ride up a few inches"I was getting ready to watch some TV before I went out to take advantage of the sweater sale. Instead of All My Children there was this image of a winged creature. She was light blue with red hair and wearing very little. She was chanting in a strange language. I think it was Latin. When you think about it the gargoyles in this castle look a lot like her."

"I think we are starting to get somewhere," Jam sat down next to her

"I bought three sweaters, a new scarf since my old one was wearing out and a bottle of perfume." She stared over her shoulder. There was a large stero system near the back and a few more chairs and a small book case. Lamps and end tables where placed in the corners. "After I was rung up I was given two shopping bags. I was halfway home when everything went dark."

"It was just dark?"

"The light was fading in the sky and then blackness. There was some light too, but I don’t remember that part, just there was light, and singing, and laughter, and then I woke up. I was on a cold metal table with a blanket over me. I am glad I wasn’t naked cause there was a man in the table next to mine. I remember my arms hurting for a few minutes and I slowly stood up because I thought I was in a coma."

"You we afraid your muscles had atrophied," Jam nodded, urging her to continue.

"It took me a few minutes to talk right. After I turned on the light I noticed I was in a stone room with paintings and tapestries and other strange statues. There were two robots in the back and they looked like the winged creatures that live in this castle. The man I was sharing the room with was something out of a Science Fiction movie. He was half man and half machine. He noticed my arms and then I looked down."

"And then what happened?"

"I saw what happened to my arms and I ran. I came across several of the winged creatures before I ran into you."

"Some of them have seen you?" Jam raised her eyebrows.

"No, I just looked in a few rooms and saw them. I was trying to find the elvator to leave this place.

"I have some details," Jam said. "I’m not exactly clear on everything. I don’t remember hearing about people blacking out or being kidnapped, and I doubt Xanatos would just grab people off the street and replace their arms with weapons."

"I can’t believe it myself either," Marcia shook her head.

"You thought you were in a coma?"

"I didn’t have too much trouble walking," she wiggled her feet. "Too much time couldn’t have gone by?"

Jam inhaled deeply. "I don’t know what year you blacked out in ,but it’s now September of 2004."

"2004," Marcia said slowly, allowing the news to sink in. "I’ve been in a coma for nearly ten years?"

"I’m sorry," Jam took her hand.

________________________________________________________________

The machine crafted out of golden metal raced down the halls. The animated robot was crafted to fit the form of the spiritual sister from an older rookery. The shape of her wings were the same split, butterfly shape. The horns curled back over the hair, made out of the same metal as the rest of the body.She could not be in the same castle. It looked like Wyvern, but it had been changed. There were talismans of strange sorcery embedded everywhere through the halls. Long rugs made of strange fur were set out to serve as a floor. What made it worse was that it seemed empty. There was no sign of her clan, and there was no sign of any of the castle’s humans.

"Brothers?" the voice that came out through machine’s voicebox was not the same voice as as the female gargoyle it had resembled. "Sisters?" What kind of spell could have taken the entire clan and changed the interior of the castle? What kind of spell could have changed her form as well? Her skin had been transformed into armor of the smoothest metal and she no longer looked like herself. She noticed she looked more like her spiritual sister when she passed by a mirror. "Goliath, Second, Mentor? Elders? Watchdogs?"

"Coldfire!" Finally someone had arrived, but it was not a member of her clan. It was a human, but not one of the humans she was used to seeing in the castle. His blond hair was cut extremlyshort and his clothes were extremely odd. The jacket and trousers appeared to be tight and there was a strange strip of cloth hanging from his neck. He also wore something across his face she could not identify. "Coldfire stop."

"Are you the sorcerer who did this?" She tried to ignore the words appearing in her eyes.

HUMAN IDENTIFY: OWEN BURNET. SERVANT OF XANATOS, HUSBAND OF KITTY, FATHER OF RONNIE. ALSO KNOWN AS PUCK.

"More sorcery," she covered her eyes. The last name stuck out in her mind.

"That I am. It appears that I am right about someone possessing the Coldfire Robot."

"You did this," she spread her arms. "You have taken my clan and changed the castle."

"This was none of my doing," Owen stepped away from her. If the spirit inside the metal form had tried to attack him she may accidentally use the fire. The barking of one of the beast dog had calmed her down.

"Watch Dog," Coldfire turned to face the blue gargoyle beast as he raced up towards her. "Where is everyone?"

BEAST DOG IDENTIFY: BRONX, MATED TO BOUDICCA.

"The words say you are called Bronx."

Bronx did not try to tackle her. He paused to growl at her. His head tilting from side to side. He looked like he was trying to identify her.

"My form had been altered by sorcery, but it is me. I am the gargoyle who is apprentice to the chef who cannot hear. I am the one used juices from roasts to create treats for you and the rest of the beasts. I am the one who wore flowers in her hair."

The words ran through to Bronx’s mind . The tiny nub of a tail wagged back and forth while the beast whined.

"You remember?" She bent her knees In order to reach out and pet the creature

"He remembers," Owen motioned for her to follow him. "Mr Xanatos and I both had hoped to find atleast one of you by splitting up."

"Is this Mr Xanatos the one responsible for what happened to me?"

"He is in a way and the same could be said about one of your clansmen."

"My clansmen," she stood back to her full height. "What happened to them?"

"I will fill you in on the way to the dining hall, Xanatos and I agreed to meet there once we had found at least one of you ."

"One of you?" She had many more questions to ask and it appeared the only way she was going to recieve answers was if she followed him.

"This is going to take a while," Owen told her. He did not react to the fact her voice was not the same as Desdemona's. The voice matched with the soul since the machine had no original voice of it's own.

________________________________________________________________

Demona sought a place to land amongst the middle the courtyard. The flowers that were blooming around that time of year smelled just as sweet. Oh how she wished it was January and it wasn’t cold enough to snow but cool enough to make the rain feel like ice water and everything looked rotted and dead. It would have fit her mood.

The immortal gargoyle entered the castle, wondering which member of the clan she would have run into. She felt like she could have faced her mate again. She would not be in the mood for anything besides a few kisses and crawling into bed.

"Did you enjoy your glide?" the gargoyle who greeted her was not her mate. It was the crimson web wing from Avalon.

"I had enough time to reflect," she tried to brush past him. Her eyes never left the ground. As much as she loved the three children from Avalon she could not face Cecilia or Mercutio. The guilt of being partcially responsible for the deaths of their bilogical parents weighed down on her shoulders

"Did you learn about looking up when things are down?" His voice was giddy, to much joy for her.

"I do not wish to discuss things right now." The Web wings usualy friendly tone and sense of humour was what she did not need right now.

"Do you wish to discuss them with me?" Othello asked. The resurrected gargoyle stood in the shadows.

"You may not understand it," Demona turned toward the hallway. "If I stayed here to talk with you I may actually feel even worse."

"Would you if you saw me?" He stepped into view. The whirring and heavy clang with every step was all too familiar to the immortal gargoyles ears as was the single red eye. The cycborg that resembled Othello stepped into the light.

"Coldstone," Demona’s mouth dropped. She marveled at the being of stone pieces and metal fused together. "Who provided him with sentience?"

"My sister," the cyborge wrapped his arms around the surprised female in a deep embrace. "You have also survived. Mercutio has told me about how you were one of the few who survived the massacre."

"What has happened?" She cast a glance towards Mercutio who had a goofy smirk on his face. "What have you done?"

"I didn’t do any of this," Mercutio held up his hands. "Apparently one off your rookery brothers had crawled back from beyond the grave into Coldstone’s body."

"No," Demona slipped from the cyborg’s embrace. The spell had worked, but not quite what she had intended "That was not what the spell was supposed to do." She glanced into the eye of Coldstone, the one that almost seemed organic. "Which one are you?"

"I know you cannot reconize me by my tone of voice," The cyrborg held up his hand, looking almost like he was goingt o stroke her hair but he quickly lowered it. "I am your deep blue rookery brother. I had hair of gold and white."

"And you had always kept it tied back, and you fought with a halberd?" Demona asked and waited for him to nodd before she reimburced his embrace could not believe who she had brought back. "My understanding brother," she wrapped her arms around him. "Are you the only one inside?"

"I think so, but I’m not he only one brought back. A female from a younger rookery is in the row robot called Coldfire," He stumbled over the words. "She was the one who cooked and wore heather in her hair."

"Coldfire is alive," she chewed the bottom of her mouth, trying to remeber the female that was the same age as Brooklyn’s rookery. "If Coldfire is alive, then where is she?"

"We separated to look for everyone. We were to meet in the storage room when the time counted back for an hour." He blinked when he noticed the way Demona was staring at him. "We are able to tell time much better with these bodies."

"Where you and Coldfire the only ones in the room?" Demona had to ask. There was the possibility the spell she had performed had the result she had intended.

"We were the only ones there."

"There were no bodies on the table?"

"There were nothing lying on the strange metal tables."

"It worked," the words were a mere whisper as they left her mouth. The amount of guilt that she had carried around her shoulders were removed. She felt so light headed she almost didn’t hear Mercutio.

"What do you mean it worked?" Merctuio raised his brow ridged. "You performed two spells?"

"No," she shook her head. "My understanding brother was a side spell. We have to find Coldfire and the other two cyborgs."

"There are more?" The webwing’s eyes widened.

"We can go to the storage room. I am certain Coldfire is there wating for us," Coldstone offered.

"There are the two other cyborgs and we cant have everyone wondering around," Mercutio said. "How about you two go to the living room. I’ll go to the storage room and meet up with Coldfire. If I see anyone else I’ll bring them."

________________________________________________________________

The dining hall was not quite empty when Goliath and his group had arrived. The billionaire who owned the castle was seated at the table. His eyes had widend at the sight of Scott. "Looks like Demona’s experiment was a success," Xanatos approached the cyborg. "Living flesh and not stone, and he is fully functional."

"Demona did this?" Lexington stared up at the no longer frightened cyborg.

"And you knew about it?" Goliath felt a growl adevelope at the back of his throat. "You knew and you didn’t tell us?"

"She asked for it to be a secret," the billionaire stared at Scott. "She wanted them to be a surprise."

"Them?" Goliath raised a brow ridge.

"Ir was a surprise," Scott frowned. His cybernetic eye lit up with soft green light. "And a nightmare. Did you know I was also dead and she was the one who killed me? Did you help with that?"

"Unknowingly," Xanatos answered through clenched teeth. "She lied to me to gain access to my studios."

"Yet you worked with her to put me in this form of hell?"

"She wanted to give back what she had taken from you," the billionar did not bat an eye. "You do not seem to be having problems with the fact that Demona lives in the castle along with the other gargoyles."

"They have told me she was no longer a part of the clan," Scott turned towards the clan leader.

"Easy my friend," Othello placed a reassuring hand on Scott’s human shoulder. "She lives here even thoush she is no lonmger part of the castle. Xanatos owns the structure."

"I was expecting Owen to be the one who tracked down the newly resurrected ones," Xanatos studied the former human standing before him. His first feeling was that of a person impressed with the skill Demona was able to use when she changed them from stone to flesh. The second emotion was of pity. This man had nearly ten years and his humanity taken from him "He is built more like Hyena and Jackal."

"You are skirting the question," Goliath stepped towards Xanatos. "What do you mean by them?"

"I believe Mr. Xanatos means both human statues Demona had kept for nearly ten years have been brought back to life." Owen Burnet entered the room at the opposite ned. He did not come alone. Following behind him was the golden robot, Coldfire and the blue gargoye beast.

"My rookery brother!" The golden robot raced up to Lexington and picked him up to embrace him. "Owen has told me you are alive, along with the other two who you were close to." She did not notice the surprised expression on the smaller gargoyle’s face, not at just seeing her, but also the sudden movement of being lifted off the ground.

"That is not the voice of my mate," Othello stared at the robot. "I do recognize it."

Coldfire stared up at the black gargoyle"I remember you as well older brother, even though our kind has names." She set Lexington back down

"Who were you?" Lexington asked as soon as he was able to catch his breath. The robot did not know how strong her mechnaized body was.

"I was your sister who learned to cook and offered you treats. I kept my unruly hair kept by using flowers."

"You were a darker brown shade than Hudson, I mean the former leader," Lexington quickly caught himself. "Was your hair a pale silver color?"

"That was me," Coldfire nodded. "Is your other rookery brother here? The pale green one with large ears."

"He is here,"Lexinton frowned slightly. "I am certain everyone else remembers you now."

"Does he have a mate?"

"Yes he does,"  the small gargoyle nodded  sadly. "We all do."

"Now we know who she is what about the other human?" Goliath asked, hoping to remove any trace of the akward silence.

"Marcia ran after she saw what had happened to her," Scott explained. "She is mostly human except for her arms.

"We still have to find out the location of Coldstone." Xanatos pointed out.

"Holy mackerel a full room," Mercutio slid into the dining hall. The crimson webwing took in all who was gathered around in the room "And Coldfire is here and what may be one of the cyborgs. It's a good thing I decided to look in here before heading straight for the storage room."

"You seem to know what is going on," Othello scowled.

"I’m not one hudnered percent clear but now we can say that it’s three down and one to find."

"What are you blabbing about?" The Dark gargoyle asked.

"He may know where Marcia and Colstone is," Owen suggested.

"I don’t know any Marcia," Mercutio held up his index talons. "But I do know where Coldstone and Demona are."

"The one who killed me?" The glow resumed in the bionic eye of  Lieutenant Fern.. "Where is she?" She stapped toward the scarlet gargoyle with a glare on his face.

________________________________________________________________

Demona was not sure how to speak with her rookery brother as they approached the living room. He had always served as a mediator and when she had tried to convince Goliath of what was best for the clan her brother tried to serve as amediator, trying to get the stubborn fool to see her point of view so that they could come to an understandment and Goliath had never even attempted to try to meet half way.

"I’m surprised that you don’t want to kill me now," Demona sighed as she reached for the door knob. "After all that I have told you."

"I am disappointed in what you have done, but I don’t blame you completely. Some of the blame falls on Goliath" Cold stone saidas soon as she had opened the door. "He was too stubborn to even reach a compromise."

The two gargoyles entered the living room. Their eyes were drawn towards the human woman with a pair of what looked like gargoyle wings was standing in front of Jam.

"It’s her," the woman pointed at Demona when she had looked up. The wings folded against her, almost mechanically and were set back into the metal box on her back. "She was the one on television."

"I tried to explain to her she had been in a coma for nearly ten years," Jam explained. She was staring at the metal storage unit the wings has retracted to "We have also been exploring her new abilities. "

"She was not just in a coma," Demona sighed. She had to get the truth out. "Almost nine years ago I performed a spell to turn everyone who heard me and everyone who saw me to stone at night. The spell had worked and nearly everyone was turned to stone. I smashed several statues with both my mace and bazooka. I also used my bazooka to shoot off your arms. In a way you have died."

"I died?" Marcia blinked. everything was beging to make sense to her as she said those words. She understood why there was darkness and what the beutiful place she had appeared in was.

"Yes," Demona nodded. "I’m sorry."

"You killed me?" Marcia’s voice tooke on an a steel like edge. The creature before her was the one not only resposnbile for her death, but the death of several others. She stared at her cybernetic arms before returning the glare to the gargoyle. "You killed me!" Marcia ran straight for the gargoyle repsonsible for her death. She would have tackled her if it were not for strange golden robot that resembled Desdemona had grabbed her and the gargoyle cyborg that had stpped in front of Demona and Jam keeping her back. "Let her go. She murdered me."

"Looks like he have arrived just in time." Mercutio raced into the room after the golden robot. Right behind him were both the male cyborg Demona and brought back to life and Goliath.

"What is going on Demona?" Goliath had only needed to look at the human woman on the floor, being pinned down by both Jam and Coldstone to realize they had figured out what Demona had done

"She murdered me!" Marcia yelled. Her seething glare was removed from the immortal gargoyle to stare into the organic eye of Lieutenant Fern. "She murdered several people, including you, Scott."

"I am aware of how she ruined my life," the human cyborg said. The brilliance of his sybernetic eye was enough to light up the room. "A tiny part of my sympathizes with the fact her clan was destroyed a thousand years ago, but I had no part in the massacre and neither did my ancestors. There is no Norse within me."

"They have explained the wyvern masacer to you," Demona sighed. She had no idea what Goliath had exactly told them. "It is not as cut and dry as it seems. How much have you told them, Goliath?"

"I have told them all that they needed to know," the lavender gargoyle answered. "About how the Vikings used a decoy to lure me and Hudson away from the castle and how the Vikings attacked during the day."

"That is true but it is not the whole truth," Demona fought hard to stare into the eyes of Coldfire and Scott. " The Captain of the guard agreed to sell out the castle. He and I worked out a deal."

"Sister?" Coldfire gasped. Her grip on Marcia had relaxed to the point the former human was able to slip away.

"She betrayed all of you," The look in Marcia’s eye read pure murder. Saliva danced off the the tip of her tongue with each word she had hissed out. "Allow me my vengeance." She was only able to take one step towards Demona. Both dog like gargoyle beasts blocked her path.

"She had already explained to me," Coldstone nodded before he took a step in front Of Demona. His focus jumped from Marcia, to Scott, and even to Coldfire "She did not mean for us to be destroyed."

"The original plan was for me to convince Goliath to lead the whole clan away from the castle. While we were away the Vikings would have taken over and the castle home would have been ours. That did not pan out as planned. The Captain told me he would keep my clan safe during the day, but I did not trust him."

"And instead of leading us away with you, you just saved yourself?" Coldfire raced to attack her. She had only made it a few feet before Coldstone tackled her midsection. Both cyborg and robot rolled around on the ground "Traitor!" Coldfire was able to snap once she was pinned to the ground. It almost sounded like she was trying to get her robotic body to snarl and hiss. "Was the plan just yours or did the Captain tell you?"

"We created it together," Demona did not wnat to look at anyone in the castle, but she forced herself to recieve their scathing glares. The only ones she recieved looks of malicious hate as from both Coldfire and Marcia. Scott just glared angerly at her.

"Do not judge her," Coldstone snapped at both the robot and female cyborg.

"How can we not?" Scott asked. He watched his arm as the minature lazer cannon poped out. He knew the other gargoyles whould prevent him from hurting Demona, but he could still scare her "She is partly responsible for her clan’s death and she is completely responsible for mine and Marcia’s deaths, and instead of letting us rest in peace she pulled us out of the great beyond and turned us into freaks." The canon renetered his arm the second he felt Othello grab onto his shoulder. He shook the dark gargoyle off him. "We are now living in hell because of her.

"There were several people who were at fault with the Wyvern Massacre," Coldstone snarled.

"Just her, the Captain, and the Vikings," Coldfire tried to pull her free from Coldstone’s grasp. "And the Vikings would not have caused the actual destruction if she hadn’t betrayed us."

"You have forgotten Goliath and the Princess and her people." Coldstone pointed at the lavender gargoyle. "He was so stubborn that he would not listen to any suggestions that would help our kind ."

"How dare you blame our leader." Coldfire demanded. "He did not agree to allow the castle to be overtaken. He did not glide off without warning us."

"No sister," Goliath grabbed her shoulder. "It is true. There are times I feel I should have taken the entire clan with me. We would have gone back for the humans. We wouldn’t have turned our backs on our heritage and we would have punished Demona."

"If she and the Captain had never created the plan then she wouldn’t have tried to convince you to take the whole clan."

"Do not forget how the humans have treated us," Coldstone pointed out. "Beasts and monsters. Do you not forget how they called us that. How they shouted at us to stay away from them and even flung dirt and manure at us?"

"I will not forget, nor will I forget how we have been murder and brought back to life as these machines."

"You are just as stubborn as Goliath. None of this would have happened if he was more understanding and was willing to compromise with Demona."

"You keep defendeing her because you love her," The golden machine slipped from his grasp. "You couldn’t tell her that because she was Goliath’s mate."

Coldston was taken aback. "Where did you hear such lies?" He glanced around the room The only ones who did not seemed shock were Jam, the former humans and Othello was taken aback. He falthered trying to find the right words. "Was it from our troublesome brother?"

"Nae, it was not form him, but our spiritual sister." She pointed at her form. " She told me before I walked in on you pining for her."

"Why am I having this discussion with you when you don’t even knew what it’s means to fall in love."

"I was in love with someone and I would have asked if he could court me before she," Coldfire paused to turn her head towards Demona. "Ended my life."

"This is quite a drama," Jam approached Marcia and helped her to her feet.

"It’s a tragedy," Marcia couldn’t remove her eyes from the Cold Duo. "How many lives has this Demona creature ruined?"

"Several in the past," Jam stared at her mating band. "But she made several lives more better recently."

"They allow her to live here," Marcia shook her head." And you don’t seem to mind."

"We got a problem," Lexington pointed out. "I mean it’s good that Demona tried to correct some of her past mistakes, but there is no way we can live with them if  wedon’t want any senseless murders, and I have a feeling they may not want to stay."

"Perhaps they would be more at home in the Labyrinth?" Othello suggested.

"Or maybe with one of the clans of the New gargoyles." Lexington suggested.

"New Gargoyles?" Coldfire returned to her feet. "Where they created by the demon?" the name she used to call Demona caused the immortal to flinch.

"They were once humans," Goliath explained. "Demona had nothing to do with it. It was caused by a creature of magic. They would be better able to explain it to you."

"They used to be human," Scott stared at has hands and at his cybernetic arm. "Like us."

"They are learning how to be gargoyles," Xanatos cleared his throat. He and Owen had kept silent while the small dram unfolded out. "The Network that has been set up is helping them, but they could also use other teachers." The billionaire smiled as he stared at the Cold Duo

"I’ll allow you three to discuss with the clan," Coldstone approached Demona. "I am going to walk my rookery sister to her room and to her mate." He tried to remain emotionless as he held out his hand to Demona.

________________________________________________________________

The immortal sorceress waited until they were halfway down the hall before she spoke. "I can walk the rest of the way."

"I know," Coldstone allowed her to remove her hand from his grasp. "I walked with you to make sure none of the others would attack you."

"I would have deserved it."

"Why do you want more pain inflicted upon yourself?"

"I wanted to make amends to make me feel better," she paused in her tracks. "I brought you and Coldfire and the two former humans back for selfish reasons."

"You gave us a second chance at life."

"I pulled you and the others out of Heaven and placed you in hell." She turned to look away from him. "You don’t know how this also hurts. How your being understanding and kind is increasing my pain."

"I’m sorry," he took a step back.

"It is not your fault. Is it true you once had feelings for me?"

"It is," He nodded. "And it’s a reason why I also can’t live here. You have told me you found a mate that understands you more than Goliath. A mate that I am already feeling jealous of." He gave her one last embrace before he turned around and headed towards the living room.

Demona just watched him while a single tear trailed from the corner of her eye and stung her cheek as it traveled down to her chin.

________________________________________________________________

A crisp reddish brown leaf fluttered from one of the trees surrounding the two story farm houws and fluttered through the wind, eventually coming to a halt on the ground next to the garage It would have been more noticable during the day, a beautiful image of early autum. At night the only creature that had noticed it was one of the barn cats who kept it’s golden eyes on the leaf until it touched the soil.

Music blared out of the radio of the Letchfield’s garage. The drum beats and the guitar sounds missed along with the clangs of metal striking against metal. A trio of Neogargs were watching the magic the middle Letchfield son was able to do using his combined skills of mechanics and computer knowledge. The young human was dressed in his work cloths, and old flanel shirt, backwards baseball cap, a pair of jeans and boots. Heavy gloves clothed his hands and a heavy apron covered his front from his shoulders down to his knees. a welding mask sheilded his face.

Don’t say so long
Your not that far gone
This could be your big chance to makeup
Today till soon be

The neogargs were not the only one who were watching. The gargoyle cyborg called Coldstone watched along with them and the partly transformation the human was able to work on Coldfire.

"What is going on in there?" Scott landed next to him, along with the clan leader, Orson. The greenish yellow was holding an Ax in his hands.

Gone, like yeterday is gone,
Like history is gone,
The world keeps spinning on,
Your going going gone,

"Coldfire had asked for a few slight modifications," Coldstone’s eyes were on the ax. "What is that for?"

"It’s for you," Orson handed it to him. "We don’t have much in the way of medieval weapons here. I hope that works out for you."

Like summer break is gone,
Like saturday is gone
Just trying to prove me wrong
You pretend like your immortal your immortal

"Thank you, brother," Coldstone accepted it. "How is Marcia’s gliding lesson go?"

"Going well," Scott smiled as soon as the welded had ended.

"Tell me what you think," the golden robot exited the workshop a few minutes later. Her wings had been completely changed. The butterfly shape was no longer there and instead were a pair of metal wings with an extra strut. Her tail had been given a small oval shape bulge at the bottom. "It’s already in the color of body armor I’m getting for my form. My head will also be changed. I love my spiritual sister, but I want the body of Coldfire to resemble me."

"You look great," Coldstone smiled.  He recieved a new chance at life. A new life he was greatful for. He had no idea if the others would ever forgive Demona. The only sure thing he knew was to teach the clan how to fight, how to protect.