by: Spacebabie

Email:LadyAndromeda@smstars.zzn.com

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Southern Comfort

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"French!" The exclamation that flew out of Tomas Brod’s mouth caused the youngest member of his gang to quiver like a poached egg. The Czech gangster stared at the swirling brown liquid in his cup and glanced back up at the young man who couldn’t even blink. "French roast?"

"You don’t like French roast sir?"

"I don’t like," Brod paused. "The French. I do not like French wine, I do not like French bread, I do not like French roast." He threw the cup at the young man who jumped out of the way. The cup came into the contact of the wall, it’s contents coating the yellow stained surface.

"Damn shame to waste good coffee like that," Jackson Dane said from where he sat at the old dried out table. The rest of the gang had gathered at a breakfast of donuts and coffee. "As long as it doesn’t have that fancy foam and flavorings." Brod turned to stare at him.

"Considering how bad your American coffee is the foam and the flavorings help but-" he turned back to the young man. "French roast?"

"I’m sorry sir," the youth shuffled his feet. Pale complexion, bony arms, his long narrow face was gaunt and his dirty blond hair hung like string under his baseball cap. The young man appeared no older than sixteen, but according to his drivers licensee he was twenty two. Staring at his fragile frame under an old army jacket. Brode was reminded of himself when the Czech republic was once a satellite nation of Russia, and how he had to tighten his belt.

"Bring me the newspaper, and when you return I want you to eat a lot of donuts. You are too thin."

"You’re a little tough on Stringbean," Dane commented when Brod sat down.

"Growing up where I come from you had to be tough," Brod reached for a chocolate covered Bavarian cream. "If you are not tough you do not survive."

"True," Dane wiped some raspberry jelly from the corner of his mouth." but you are in America now. He’s a good kid I wouldn’t mind having him for a son unlike that bum I have. He’s too much like my ex stepfather. I hope that bum rots in hell."

"When did he die?"

"A couple of months agao in a loony bin," He noticed Brod’s widened eyes. "Yeah he was over a hundred."

"I have your paper sir," String-bean had appeared behind Thomas and handed him the newspaper.

"Good," The gang leader said. "Now eat." He removed the plastic covering while Stringbean selected himself a couple of jelly donuts and a few covered in powdered sugar. Brode unrolled the paper and tried to go through the sections. Various flyers from department stores fell out and onto the floor. "What is with all these adds?" The sound of chuckling brought his focus back to Dane.

"You forgot what today is didn’t you?" The elderly man asked. "It’s the day after Thanksgiving." Brod’s eyes softened as a faint smiled formed.

"Ah yes. Today is the day most Americans are shopping." He returned back to the paper. The image of a large diamond caught his eye. "Yes many American’s will be shopping today. Not many will be visiting museums." He handed the section he was reading to Dane. The older man’s eyes widened when he saw the gem.

"The Heart of Quilla will be on display at the Michael C Carlos museum of natraul wonders this weekend. It is part of a tour that started in Dallas that will be making its way up through the states ending in New York." Dane lowered the paper and smiled back at Brode. "Do you have a plan?"

"I am creating one now."

"Sir?" a member of his gang turned to him. " If it is going to be in New York why not get it there? Why should we steal it down here."

"Several things," Brode said and leaned back. "Many gangs are in New York. Atlanta is the apple that is prime for the plucking."

"Peach." Dane interrupted.

"Peach then. It does not get as cold as it does in New York, but not too warm like in Florida. We do not have a reputation down here yet. And-" he sat back up. "There are no winged reptiles to try and stop us."

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The air of the Mulligan household was filled with the aroma of food being slowly reheated: the sweet cinnamon from the turnips, The tartness of the cranberries in the stuffing and the warm and succulent aroma of the turkey in the oven tickled the olfactory bulbs of anyone who walked into the kitchen or hung around long enough in the dining room. There was no one in the dining room Everyone was either in the living room or in the kitchen including little Colin Canmore. The infant woke up from his nap in the bassinet that was placed on the kitchen table and let out a cry that was louder and more shrill than steam from a teapot. The two year old girl at the table looked up from scribbling crayons onto her coloring books.

Moira Canmore was the first to reach her grandson.

"Oh somebody woke up with a wet tush," Moira lifted Colin from the bassinet and noticed how his diaper sagged. "I’ll take you to the bathroom to get changed, but first let me take of this jacket." Her fingers barely touched the buttons before Lorrie snatched him from her arms.

"Mama no," Lorrie pulled her son closer to her chest. "You work too hard all ready, besides between me and my brothers you changed enough diapers."

"Now I’m not too old to help take care of my grand children," Moira said and indicated Lorrie’s niece. Lorrie smiled and nodded. Her Mother wasn’t an old frumpy house wife. She did have a bit of a tummy and a large bottom with only a slight bit of cellulite on her thighs, but considering she did give birth to five children she still looks lovely. She had a few lines under her eyes and around her mouth. Her hair that once was deep mahogany color had lightened to the color of fallen dead leaves with a few streaks of silver and white mixed in. Her father on the other hand appeared to be ten years older than her mother. Lorrie knew why of course.

"I know, but you are busy with heating up and I know now how to cook a Thanksgiving dinner thanks to your lessons, but I think you are more needed with making the pies. Let me take care of Colin." Moira Mulligan stood back and walked over to the sink. She did not see Lorrie sigh with relief.

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"That was so close," Lorrie whispered as she laid Colin on the changing table in what was once her bedroom. Her family had moved into the large four bedroom house when she was nine. She was thankful that she finally received her own room, instead of having to share one with her brother Donny. When they moved in she was given the smallest room to be her own while Her older brothers shared ne, and her younger brothers shared another.

The many rooms in the house was a blessing. With her, Jon, and Colin in her room, Donny in his old room, James sleeping on the fold out couch in the study, Trevor and his family in Trevor’s old room. as well as Aunt Trudy and Uncle Norman in the basement. It would have been near difficult for this many relatives to squeeze in to a smaller house.

Lorrie removed Colin’s jacket, freeing her son’s concealed wings before she undid the sticky tabs on his wet diaper.

"Still afraid t’ tell them?" Jon Canmore spoke from behind when he entered the room. Lorrie nodded.

"I don’t know how they are going to take it," the young mother said as she rolled up the soiled diaper. Jon took it from her and exited the room. She sighed as she wiped Colin’s bottom with a disposable wipe and gently rubbed on talcum powder.

"They may know some day," Jon said once he returned. Lorrie nodded as she closed the tabs of the fresh diaper. Clean and dry Colin gurgled and gave his wings a light flap.

"You don’t know my family. They are open minded on most things, but on some-"she hung her head. "Donny hasn’t even told everyone that he is gay yet. I don’t know how they will react if they saw Colin’s wings."

"Or me at night?" Jon smiled weakly. For the past two nights Jon had retreated to the bedroom minutes before sunset causing her family to ask questions. Uncle Norman had made a smart ass comment about Jon being from Scotland and the time there is hours ahead so he must have been ready for bed.

Lorrie closed her eyes half way and sucked in her breath.

"I am so sorry about Uncle Norman. I know it could be worse. He could be a rascist, but he’s not. He likes people who are Black, Latin, Asian and Native American, as long as they are from the south."

"Ach do na worry about it," Jon brushed a few of her wine colored bangs from out of her eyes. "I can handle m’self." He kissed his wife on the cheek and tickled Colin’s toes before he left the room.

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While Moira, Trudy and Trevor’s wife slowly reheated last nights dinner, and prepared a new pie the men were gathered in the living room watching tapes of the Atlanta Falcons. Barry, and Norman sat on the large silver couch with twenty one year old James in the middle. Trevor sat at the love-seat with his five year old son and Donny in one of the armchairs.

The first thing that Jon had noticed about the family was how much older Barry Mulligan and Norman Killam appeared than their wives. Both men had lines etched into ther faces making htem appear to be like fine leather and both had hair that had gone silver. Barry’s hari had thinned to the point that the top of his pink speckled head could easily be seen. Norman did have a beer belly that wiggled whenever he laughed at a joke.

Her three brothers that were there that evening all had the same nose that Lorrie had. Both Trevor and James had hair the color of deep rich mahagony. Trevor had sparkling blue eyes while James had the same pale green color of their mother. Donny had the same shade of green in his eyes, but hair the color of honey. Both young brothers had the same narrow slightly cuved chin as their mother and Lorrie, while Trevor had the square shaped one like his father.

It didn’t bother Jon that they were watching events that they had seen before, but he had to wonder why they got worked up over a fumble, interception or when the other team scored if they already knew it was coming. Well not all the men were. Just Norman, Barry , and Donny. Trevor and James cheered and raised their fists in triumph but even they had to ask the same questions Jon had wondered. The youngest member of the group was the only one not interested. Trevor’s five year old son was more into his tyrannosaurus toy than the game.

"Damn that Elroy!" Barry stood up when John Elroy intercepted the football from the Falcons.

"Dad," James glanced at him. "You know they are going to loose."

"I know," Barry sat down. "But it just pisses me off!"

"What game are ye watching?" Jon asked as he sat in the empty chair.

"Superbowl of 99," Trevor answered.

"Sorry it’s not the World Cup," Norman said. Donny and James turned to glance at their uncle while Trevor sighed and Jon braced himself for what was coming. " but we Americans don’t really care that much about soccer. We prefer real sports." Jon bit back on his tongue wanting to snap at him that soccer was a real sport, but the Mulligan’s beat him too it.

"Soccer is a real sport," James said. "Both Ryan and I played soccer in high school."

"In the sprang," Norman nodded and returned his glare on Jon. "But in Winter ya played football. A real man’s sport." Jon smiled. He wasn’t going to let Lorrie’s uncle get to him.

"Did anyone besides Lorrie play baseball?" Jon asked. He and Lorrie were still decorating their new apartment. One thing he noticed more in ther own place than at the mansion were the few high school photos that she pinned up. A few of them were of her in her baseball uniform.

"I did," Trevor said sheepishly. "But I think Lorrie was better."

"Aye, I’ve seen some of her pictures, but from the stories she told me I could swear that ye were a better pitcher than Maddux."

"Now no way," Trevor’s eyes lit up. "No one is better than Maddux"

"Trev I know your a fan of Maddux and all," Barry leaned over the arm of the couch to speak to his second oldest. "but his arm has gotten soft this year."

"Not ta mention he can’t swing worth a shit," Norman added before taking a sip of his beer.

"Uncle Norman could you please watch your language in front of my son?" Trevor asked. Norman mouthed an apology.

"Ye being too harsh on the guy," Jon said. "Ye can’t expect them all t’ be like Chipper Jones. That guy can swing."

"Exactly," Barry held up his finger. "I swear he’s going to break Mcguire’s record someday."

"Hey dad," Donny spoke up. "Do we have any Braves tapes?"

"I think we do."

"Are you sure he would rather watch baseball?" Norman jabbed a thumb at Jon’s direction.

"Football I do na understand," Jon held up his hands and hunched his shoulders. "But baseball," he smiled. "Now that is a sport." Barry stood up and turned around to face both Donny and Norman.

"Norman shut up." Mr. Mulligan turned to leave the room.

"Where are you going dad?" James asked.

"I just noticed my son-in-law does not have a beer."

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Moira had assigned seats the first evening everyone had arrived. She made sure to keep the children near their parents. Trevor’s wife, Bernice, far away from Donny and Norman away from Jon. Lorrie knew that despite the seating arraignment some people will make certain comments.

It started with Bernice making off hand comment about wondering how Donny could know what a tea cozy was.

"After he graduated college he did some traveling in Europe and South America," Moira answered while she ladled more gravy on to her mashed potatoes. She glared at the woman with short dark brown hair and narrow slive eyes. Sending a mental message for her to not mess with her son again. Trevor leaned over to whisper something into her ear, hopefully that will keep her snippy comments at bay, but not Uncle Norman.

Lorrie knew that he was going to make a jab at Jon. He was waiting for her husband to say something or for someone to ask a question.

"Want some more turnips Jon?" Moira asked with a smile.

"Aye," Jon smiled back at her.

"Would it be difficult for him ta say an actual yes?" Norman whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Norman!" Aunt Trudy hissed at him.

"Here you go," Moira ladled more of the mashed cinnamon and sugar spiced vegetable onto Jon’s plate.

"Brave’s fan and a good eater," Barry commented. "Lorrie you picked a good one."

"Thank you sir," Jon said in his American accent. Lorrie’s family blinked at the fact that it sounded so authentic

" Now you don’t have to talk like us and don’t call me sir, Call me dad."

"Aye daddy," Norman whispered out loud again. The family members tried to ignore him and kept on eating, but Barry slammed his fists on the table and stood up.

"Ah’m thankful that ya did not shoot yer fat mouth off last night. Ah think this family is sick and tard of yer damn xenophobia. Jon is a good man. Anyone would be proud ta have him as a son-in-law. I don’t care if he’s Scottish or if he was Franch, Black, Asian or from one of Saturn’s moons." He pointed at Norman’s face. "Now ya listen ta me. Lorrie is mah only daughter. Jon is her husband. He is part of mah family and nobody insults mah family." Barry took a few seconds to catch his breath. "Now I heard you are from the hills. Which mountain range is that?" Norman blinked before answering.

"The Appalachians in North Carolina."

"Donny who settled in the Appalachians?" Barry glanced at Donny. Donny took a sip of beer and felt all eyes on him.

"The Scottish." The answer caused Lorrie to smile.

"So are you saying he’s kinfolk now?" Norman pointed at Jon with his fork.

"Killam is a Scottish name," Trudy said. She was a lot thinner than Moira but she appeared to be just as aged. "You get this attitude from your mother. Family on your father’s side keeps on trying to invite us to The Gathering of Clans every year at Grandfather Mountain."

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Fang woken up when he felt the skiff bump into a bank. With a yawn the cougar mutate sat up and stretched.

"Where the hell has fantasy island sent us this time?" Fang grumbled as he blinked his yellow eyes and scratched his belly. He stood up and gave his wings a good stretch before he turned to his two companions. Both Mercutio and Cecilia were in stone slumber. "Heh, I guess I better check it out." Fang said as he hopped out of the skiff and landed. It had taken him weeks, but the mutate finally was able to jump out without his legs becoming wobbly.

There were no walls to climb to help him get lift into the air. He had to crawl on the ground. Make it to the side of a building with out anyone seeing him. He paused when he came across a sign poll and looked up. The words spelled out "Lake Claramere." At least he knew what kind of body of water the skiff was in. The sign also revealed that they were in an area that spoke English.

After Fang climbed up a distance one the side of the building he stretched his wings and took to the air. He circled to fly over Claramere and the skiff. Looking up he saw the sun was setting. He turned around and flew in the opposite direction of the lake. Looking for some sing to where he was. He saw another sign. "Piedmont Park."

"Still don’t know where I am," Fang grumbled and kept on searching for something that will tell him where he was.

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Lorrie placed the last bite of her sweet potato pie into her mouth. She preferred sweet potato to pumpkin. After she wiped her lips she stood up.

"Let me get that," Jon told her and took her plate. Lorrie checked on Colin who was wiggling and staring at the ceiling. She smiled at her son and removed his jacket. As long as he was in her room she felt that they shouldn’t have to hide his wings, or his ears. She took off his wool knit cap and his booties. Once the extra clothes were removed Colin gave his wings a couple of flaps and kicked the air.

"Looks like you are going to be on the soccer or football team," Lorrie smiled as she gave Colin a slight tickle on the belly causing him to gurgle.

"He can be on both," Jon returned to the room and wrapped his arm abound his wife’s waist.

"You didn’t run into Uncle Norman did you?" She asked.

"Nae, just James, ye mother and Bernice and her daughter. I insisted on helping yer mother with the dishes, but she would na accept." Lorrie shook her head.

"That’s my mother. Still can’t believe Norman is of Scottish descent. That shut him up."

"That would explain why he nailed the accent when he was trying t’ annoy me."

"At least we got them to stop wondering why you retreat here before sunset." Before they returned to the room Lorrie explained to her family that in the evenings Jon likes to spend a lot of time with Colin, since he is at work all day.

"Gitchie gitchie," Jon whispered as he tickled Colin under his chin. The infant wiggled before he smacked his chubby little hand on top of his father’s. Jon smiled at his son before he stepped back and went to the bed where his night clothes were already layed out. He stepped out of shoes and slipped into his pants and shirt. When the last sliver light faded he sucked in his breath waiting for the first wave of pain.

Lorrie took her place by the door and closed her eyes. She could only imagine the pain that her husband went through every night. Nights after she had learned about her heritage she had held up her hand trying to protect some sort of healing aura to prevent him from feeling any pain, but she apparently did not have enough angel blood to project.

She turned around when she heard Jon’s stifled roar and Colin’s cry.

"Colin," Jon was the first to be by his son’s side. "I’m sorry that I scared ye."

"Oh baby," Lorrie picked him up and placed her hand on his bottom. "Your not wet and you have just been fed."

"I scared him," Jon closed his eyes.

"No you didn’t," Lorrie shook her head while she gently bounced her son. "That wasn’t even loud. He’s just a little cranky." Lorrie sat down in the one chair in room and kept on gently bouncing her son. "I can’t sing you to sleep, so I guess I’ll tell you a story. Even if you are too young to understand." Her voice had become soft before she began her story. "Once upon a time there was a great noble warrior who tried to save his people from a race of monsters. These monster’s had a way to enchant others to believe that they were not the bad guys, even the warrior’s brother and sister. The noble warrior tried to hunt down the dark queen but she was ready for him .The dark queen was able to use sorcery and she cast a dark spell on the warrior. The spell caused him to transform into the same monster she was every time the sun had set.

In the golden city of the land of peaches a young Belle grew up and left, despite the ill wishes of the family troll. She went to the city of apples and worked her healing abilities on the people and came across the warrior who was kept in a padded cage by guardsmen in white coats. The belle saw through the warrior’s monstrous from and saw the good man that was inside." Lorrie paused when she felt Colin had become still and quite. She stared down to see her son fast asleep.

"They always fall asleep when you get to the best part," Lorrie whispered as she placed Colin into his bassinet.

"A pity," Jon whispered while he continued to stare out the window. "It was a nice rendition of a classic, especially the part with the family troll."

"I’m glad you liked it my Beauty." Lorrie gave her husband a kiss and joined his gaze through the glass. "What are you looking at?"

"The city. The beautiful city and the sky. Lorrie ye said yer comfortable wi me talking about any strange craving or an urge." He took a deep breath before turning to meet her eyes. "I have one. I need t’ stretch m’ wings. I need to feel the cool night air."

"You need to glide." She unlocked the window. "I understand. You kept up here in my old room for the past two nights, even with the TV." She opened the window. "Go on. I’ll cover for you."

"but,"

"Jon we are accepting of what we are. If I had wings I would want to glide."

"It’s na that. I just don’t think its right fer me t’ go out an enjoy m’self while yer here wi the baby."

"Jon it’s okay," Lorrie chuckled. "I’ll be fine." The weregoyle stretched out his wings to pull her closer and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

" I won’t be long." He approached his son and gave him a light kiss before he crawled out of the window and spread his wings.

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Fang waited until both Mercutio and Cecilia shook off the last remaining stone crumbs before he grumbled a good evening.

"Well somebody’s in a foul mood this evening," Mercutio pointed out. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept fine," Fang grumbled while he stared at their provisions. "I just found out where we are. Piedmont park which is part of Atlanta Georgia." He noticed both of their confused expressions before continuing. "Right, I forgot that you guys don’t know. Georgia is part of America."

"Are we close to your home?" Mercutio asked. Fang shook his head.

"Not exactly. We are in the same time zone though, but what bugs me is not the place, but the time. I learned where we are by glancing at a news paper box, and today is the last Friday of November. We lost a whole day. We missed Thanksgiving."

Both gargoyles stared at each other before Cecilia held up a hand.

"Mayhap it best be wise if you told us what Thanksgiving is."

"It’s a holiday that we celebrate. I guess its for the Pilgrims surviving their first year in the new world or something like that. Anyways we wake up. Watch a parade while we cook a huge feast. Watch a foot ball game. Eat the feast, get turkey stoned, and go to sleep."

"We missed a feast?" Mercutio blinked. " Now I’m disappointed." The female gargoyle rolled her eyes at him.

"Like we would be eating the feast on the holiday," she said. "We would be eating our provisions no matter what."

"That’s another thing," Fang lifted up the tarp. "We are getting low on food." He rummaged through the cans and the jerky. "Just our luck we can have a stick of turkey jerky each."

"We should ration our food so that we don’t run out." Cecilia said as she helped Fang go through the supplies.

"I guess that means we split a can of Spagetti-os and can of some green vegetable." Fang pulled out a couple of cans. "Each of us get a snack packet of these dried cranberries."

"There isn’t much of that cotton candy stuff left," Mercutio added. "Mayhap we finish it?"

"Yeah whatever." Fang took the can opener to the can of pasta and tomatoes and made a circular cut on the top of the can. He placed a claw into the crack and lifted inward and up, removing the lid. He gently held on to the can while he generated a slight surge of electricity.

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Senior Frogs was one of the only night clubs open that Friday night. Other places considered the Friday after Thanksgiving to be too close to the holiday to even consider. Most of Senior Frog’s regulars knew that it was going to be crowded that night. Many of them tried to hurry to be the first ones there.

Two of them were young women in their late teens. The woman in front ran so fast that the shiny black and red stone beads of her sandals rattled with each step. She wore a tight black miniskirt with thin black and gold belt. Her svelte frame and small breasts were covered by a cornflower blue tube top and a black see through vest. Her light brown hair was cut into a bob that hung just beneath the part of her face where her head met the neck. Her hair did nothing to hide the large silver hooped earrings she wore in each lobe. She paused by a parking lot only long enough for her friend to catch up.

The other woman was of a Latin heritage and wore a bright pink shirt that had the a wide open collar that was wide enough to show off her shoulders and low enough to expose the cleave of her ample breasts. The bottom of her shirt exposed an inch and a half wide line of flesh. Her light blue pleather pants that hugged her skin shone under the moonlight. Her black leather high heeled boots gave her height an extra four inches. Her long blue black hair was gathered in three braids while she wore three studs in each ear and her lips were stained blood red. Both girls clutched onto tiny golden purses that had straps that appeared to have been made out of chains.

"Why do ya have ta run so fa’ast?" The woman in the boots asked. "It doesn’t open fer about tain more minutes." Her friend placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her hazel eyes slightly at her.

"Wale maybe if ya didn’t smoke thain yer lungs wouldn’t be in such a ba’ad shape," Sandals said. "There is going ta be a big crowd tonight." Boots reached into her purse and pulled out a golden package of Benson and Hedges. "Ah sweet Jesus."

"What?" Boots asked as she pulled out a cigarette. "All this running has given me a craving."

"Why did we even bother to come to Fuck Head tonight?" Sandals breathed while she rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms while her friend clicked on her lighter. That wasn’t the only clicking that she heard. She peered into the parking lot and noticed a man standing between two SUV’s repeatedly trying to click on his lighter with out any success.

"Hey ladies," he stared up at them. "Can ya spare a flame? Mah lighter is out of gas."

"Shore," Boots reached over to hand him her lighter. With a sneer the man grabbed her by the arm and pulled closer to him.

"Give me both of yer bags," he snarled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. His wild eyes rolledt o the side till they focused on sandals. "Give me both of yers or I’ll stab yer friend!" He placed the point of the blade against Boots’s jaw line. Sandals’s body shook like a paint mixer as she stepped over to where the thug and her friend stood. Poor Boots was so scared she couldn’t move. The color drained from her body while her hands formed a death grip on her bag.

"Drop it!" The thug squeezed tighter onto her arm until she let go of the handle. "Now give me yers." He stared at Sandals. "Ya don’t want me ta hurt yer friend."

"And ye donnae want me t’ hurt ye." A low growl rippled from behind them. Both Thug and Boots turned around to see who or what had told them. A large creature with light green skin and large wings stood on three sharp talons. It’s eyes glowed a brilliant white. The only sound that could be heard was the metallic clatter from the knife that the thug dropped. "Good." The glow in the beasts eye had dimmed but they had kept the opaque whiteness to them. "Now let the lasses go wi their hand bags and unharmed."

"What thay hale are ya?" Thug asked.

"It’s a monster!" Sandals grabbed the wrist off Boots and ran off dragging her friend behind her. Thug noticed that both girls had left before he turned to the beast, blinked and turned around to run away. He had only made half a step before he felt sharp pricks of talons digging through his coat and cutting into his skin. The beast held him up high in the air.

"Now where are ye think yer goin?" Jon asked

"Where tha hale are ya guys?" Guys? Jon blinked before his heightened hearing could pick up the sounds of foot step behind him. The weregoyle dropped the thug before he spun around and saw two more men dressed similar to gang punks from New York approach him. His large pointed ears detected two more from coming up from behind.

"I know what that is," the punk with the mohawk said. "That’s one of them things from New York. a, a-" he snapped his fingers hoping to stimulated the word he was looking for in his head.

"A goblin," the punk next to him said. He wore a bright red jacket and had his bright yellow hair gelled so that it would stick up in points, like the sharp points of a sea urchin. With his jacket and hair he reminded Jon of a large order of McDonald’s fries. In his left hand he held onto a baseball bat.

Jon wondered why they didn’t show up and help their friend. Unless robbing a couple of young women was part of some sort of gang initiation. The gentle flicking of his tail increased in speed while he let out a small warning growl. The two punks in front of him paused and blinked before they rushed him. Jon allowed Mohawk to jump on to him while he dodged Fryhead’s baseball bat. He heard the clicks of two more knives being unsheathed from behind. Jon thrusted his elbow back and felt it come in contact with flesh. He heard Fryhead grunt. The gargoyle reached up and pulled Mohawk of his back. The punk was so focused on pummeling with his fists that he didn’t notice that was lifted up and was pounding the air. Jon threw him at he other two punks with knives before he spun around to take care of Fryhead.

"All right goblin," the voice belonged to Thug. "Ya tried tah mess up mah initiation, but this’ll make shore that Ah get in tha gang." Jon heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

"He’s not a goblin!" A feminine voice roared.

"He’s a gargoyle!" Another voice joined the first and before anyone could blink a large gray shape landed on to Thug. Mohawk and the punks with knives scrambled to their feet in time to see a bright red gargoyle with a shock of messy dark hair growl at them. Jon remembered the one with the bat and turned around only to see him being struck by a bolt of electricity. Canmore returned where the red web winged gargoyle was fighting and saw Mohawk coming for him with one of the discarded knives. Jon swung his tail around causing him to trip. Mohawk stumbled and fell into Jon’s talons. The weregoyle lifted the gang member up and slammed into the asphalt, knocking him out. He looked up to see the fifth punk being punched out by what appeared to be a furry cat like gargoyle.

"Brother come with us," Jon turned to see the gray female motion at him with her hand before she turned and raced to the nearest building on all fours. Brother? From his hunter training he did learn that they called each other brother and sister, but why did it feel right when she called him that? He watched as the other two followed the females. He didn’t want to associate with the true monsters, but he didn’t want to be around when the authorities arrived either. Besides he would be able to gain insight to their clan.

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Mercutio gripped the top edge of the building and pushed his body up, supporting his weight on his arms. He straightened his body till he stood completely on his hands before he let gravity take control and his legs swung over and touched the ground, completing the somersault.

"Show off," Fang mumbled.

"Is he coming?" Cecilia asked and peered over to see the green gargoyle climbing up the side of the building. "Where is your clan?" She smiled at him.

"Actually," the blond male said as he crawled over the edge. "I was going t’ ask ye that." Both Mercutio and Cecilia blinked. Fang just stared at him with his mouth open.

"He talks like the Princess and the Guardian," Mercutio said. "He must be from Scotland."

"Canmore," Fang squeaked. The mutate remembered the last time he was with the Hunter and the way his talons squeezed around his neck.

"Tooth?" Jon blinked. "What are ye doin down here?"

"That’s Fang and I was wondering the same thing."

"I’m spending Thanksgiving wi m’ wife’s family."

"Your wife?" Fang furrowed his forhead until he remembered how Vixen took on a southern accent when she and Felicia were fighting. "Oh you and Vixen tied the knot?"

"Aye."

"Still with the pack?"

"I’m a bit angry wi them." Jon didn’t mind that they had tranquilized a pure gargoyle and sold her to Trepkos, but when he heard they did the same thing to a member of his own species he threatened to arrange a meeting between his fists and their faces. He made good on his threat when he learned that she was the same weregoyle that had saved Lorrie from the vampire when she was pregnant. He spared Wolf, because he didn’t know that the twins had caught a weregoyle

"Hey congrats man, Winter is expecting and-" the mutate suddenly stared at the ground and sighed heavily. Cecilia placed her hand on his shoulder

"Don’t worry Avalon will make sure you will get home."

"Avalon?" Jon blinked. The two gargoyles filled him on how the one called Thailog tricked them, how Fang joined the two of them and the different places the skiff had already sent them.

"Don’t tell him everything," Fang cautioned. "He still probably is your enemy."

"But we have done nothing to him," Cecilia pointed out.

"Yet," Jon said. "I know of yer ways monster and how ye want t’ destroy humanity."

"We don’t want to destroy anyone. We protect."

"You were the one fighting with those humans," Mercutio pointed out.

"They were conducting a gang initiation," Jon explained. "The one with gun was trying t’ mug a couple of innocent lasses."

"You protected them," Mercutio said with a slight smile. "Thats what gargoyles do. We protect." His eyes shifted to questioning. "and why are you calling us monsters when you are also a gargoyle."

"I’m na a gargoyle," Jon crossed his arms and tapped the end of his tail against the roof top.

"Ah Jesus," Fang smacked the top of his head. "Here we go again."

"I’m a weregoyle." Jon’s response caused Fang’s hand to drop along with the mutate’s jaw. Both Mercutio and Cecilia raised up their brow ridges in a questioning matter.

"What is a weregoyle?" Cecilia asked.

"That’s what he is," Fang’s jaw closed into a bemused smile. "You guys can’t tell because you get stoned at dawn, but the second the sun rises he changes into a human."

"Does it hurt?" Cecilia asked while her brow ridges lifted up in concern.

"Aye."

"What’s it like being human?" Mercutio asked.

"You could have ask me that," Fang grumbled before turning to the weregoyle. "So you finally accept what you are." Jon shrugged his shoulders.

"It’s irreversible and I despise this monsterous body, but there are some perks to it. There is the strength, the gliding, m’ enhanced senses, m’ tough skin, and m’ tail. It helps put me on an equal talon wi there kind," he pointed at the two gargoyles. "but fer tonight I’m going t’ leave ye be."

"Why?" the female asked. Fang hissed at her.

"don’t look a gift weregoyle in the mouth." The mutate whispered.

"Because ye saved m’life. Because of that I will spare yers." Jon turned around and glided off the building.

"I pity him," Cecilia spoke up after Jon had disappeared.

"Why?" Mercutio asked her. "He’s what Fang would call a jerk."

"I have a feeling he wasn’t always like this."

"He was a lot worse," Fang shook his head before smirking. "He’s changed a lot since the last time I saw him."

___________________________________________________________________________

He just had to deal with the last tour group and it would be over. Jack Dane glanced at his watch before he lead the group of seven to the finally wing of the tour. Just thirty more minutes. Brod had cooked up a brilliant plan earlier that day. Enter the museum during the day, find ways to hide, or hide in plain sight and wait until night fall. Both Brod ,Dane, and another member of the gang had gotten jobs. He was a tour guide. Brod a security guard, and the third man a janitor.

It had taken a lot to get the jobs, there was some finagling, and a lot of knocking people out and assuming their identity. The rest of the team entered at different times of the day, took the tour, admired some of the art and found places to hide. It wouldn’t be long before they could try and take the Corazon de Quilla.

____________________________________________________________________________

Lorrie did not want to see It’s a Wonderful Life that night. She refused to watch a single TV special, Movie or even a commercial that dealt with Christmas until the first day of December. She knew the reasons they aired within the first week of November was so the stores could get a jump on their holiday sales. It had always felt wrong, always kind of sacrilegious. Now she knew why.

She turned off the TV and placed the remote on the bed when she heard the sound of something entering her window.

"Did you enjoy your-" She didn’t finish getting to ask her husband the question. She heard a signal knock on the door.

"Hey sis since you and Jon won’t be flying back to New York on Sunday," Donny said as he turned the knob. "You might want to join me..." Donny trailed off when his pale green eyes landed on Jon. "What the Hale?" Donny went from bewilderment to fury before he dropped the newspaper article that he was carrying and raced past Lorrie. "Get away from mah sistah and mah nephew!" He landed a punch in Jon’s chest.

"Donny stop it!" Lorrie wrapped her arms around her brother’s shoulders and tried to pull him back, but he was stronger. "That’s Jon."

"What?" Donny paused in his beating to turn to his sister. From his bassinet Colin woke up and let out a loud wail. Breathing deeply he looked at the creature that had just entered through the window. How could this be his brother-in-law? It was bigger than Jon, had bright green skin, large moss green wings and a tail. It’s forehead ended in a spiked frill and those weren’t eyebrows they were fleshy curves that were the same size as Jon’s eyebrows. It’s eyes, while black, were the same size. It had the same nose, facial shape, mouth, chin and cheek bone as Jon though.

"Aye," Jon smiled weakly. "It’s me." Donny’s arms went slack while his eyes widened. It was Jon.

"Sorry," Donny spoke when he finally found the strength to move his tongue. "Nice costume."

"It’s na costume," Jon reached up to run his talons through his hair. "I’m really a weregoyle."

"A weregoyle," Donny blinked and turned around to see his sister changing Colin’s diaper. The infant didn’t seem to mind the fact that his father was a green winged beast. He just lied their quietly while his mother cleaned his bottom, occasionally twitching his wings. His wings? "My nephew has wings?"

"I think we better explain everything," Lorrie said. "But could you get the door?"

"Sure, no problem." Donny’s voice was drained as he got up to close the door. Both Lorrie and Jon explained to him bout Jon falling on a beaker and having the serum enter his bloodstream, his transformations, their getting married and living at the Leahs Mansion. Finally Lorrie told him about Hybrid and Grandma-ma was still alive because she’s a quarter angel.

"She also wanted me to give you a message," Lorrie said while he held onto Colin. "She wanted me to tell that you still have her blessing and you shouldn’t be ashamed of what you are."

"Really?" Donny smiled. He was willing to believe anything now. "Do you know?" He asked Jon.

"It’ does na bother me. I won’t tell unless ye give m’ permission."

"I won’t tell the family either."

"Brother I think m’ situation is a lot less acceptable than yers."

"I wish," Donny smiled. "Don’t forget my family is very southern and very religious. The church at least allows gargoyles to perch on it.

"What was it that you had to show us?" Lorrie asked. Donny got up and walked over to the fallen new paper article.

"This," he shook the paper and smoothed out the wrinkles. "Since you guys aren’t flying back till Sunday I was thinking that we could go here tomorrow." He pointed t the newspaper article advertising the Heart of Quilla.

"Is that a diamond?" Lorrie asked before shaking her head. "Can’t be. There would be no way that they would have a diamond that big on display there."

"Quilla?" Jon asked.

"Mama Quilla," Donny explained. "She was the Inca moon goddess."

"Goddess," Jon furrowed his brow ridges. "Like the fey?"

"You mean the fairie race," Lorrie asked. "I thought that only included pixies and elves."

"That and everyone form the various mythologies. Like Odin and Anubis."

"Whoa!" Donny held up his hands. "Are you saying those guys are real?"

"Aye," Jon nodded. "Lorrie when I went gliding earlier I ran into Fang."

"Why is he here?"

"Because Avalon sent him here along with two gargoyles. They told me Avalon sends a person t’ where they need t’ be."

"Are you saying they are here because of this crystal?"

"Aye," Jon nodded again before he approached his wife. "This means I have t’go out again." His moss colored wings folded around her. He reached up to take a few of her burgundy locks into his talons and rubbed them.

"Don’t be gone too long," Lorrie said after reeling from the feeling of his wings against her form and inhaling his musk. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Do na worry about me m’love." His wings folded back. Jon nodded and smiled at Donny before he crawled out the window and glided once more into the night.

"Where is he going?" Donny asked a minute later.

"Probably to the museum to make sure that crystal doesn’t fall into the wrong hands." Lorrie’s reply caused Donny to arch an eyebrow. "That crystal might have something to do with the real Mama Quilla. If some magical island sent Fang here on the same day that it’s exhibit opens up then there is a very good chance that something bad is going to happen that will deal with the gem."

"I can understand that, but why is Jon going there?"

"He feels certain urges at night, like gliding. Another urge is that if he sees someone in trouble he’ll try to help them."

"And if he knows there is going to be trouble brewing somewhere he’s going to prevent it?"

"Exactly."

"Ok," Donny folded up the article and tucked it under his arm. "I better go tell everyone that there is nothing to be scared about and the only reason I shouted was that I," he paused and crinkled his forehead trying to think of an excuse. "Caught you two in the act. Yeah they’ll believe that."

"Especially since you obviously still have that habit of barging in," Lorrie’s tone had a slight teasing edge.

"Hey, in all fairness I did knock first. Learn to lock the door next time."

____________________________________________________________________________

Mercutio’s arms were tired. Ever since their run in with the weregoyle they had been gliding around the city searching for something important that they had to do. He didn’t know how long they had been gliding but he did know that he couldn’t continue.

"I can’t continue," he complained and aimed for the closest building top to land. "My arms are tired." Mercutio landed. He crouched into a comfortable sitting position and waited for his friends to land.

"It be best if we took a break." Cecilia said and folded her wings. Mercutio knew that both her and Fangs wings were as tired as his arms.

"Yeah," Fang agreed. "I was going numb back there." He scratched his chest. "Why the hell haven’t we found what we were supposed to do yet?"

"I don’t know," Mercutio said. "Mayhap it be best if we just got into the skiff now."

"But we haven’t done anything yet," Cecilia said.

"What if there is nothing to do here? Would the skiff not move if we sailed off. Would we turn around in the mist and sail right back here."

"Avalon sends us to where we need to be."

"Then why haven’t we run into it yet?" Fang asked. "I’m beginning to think Mercutio is right."

"Or mayhap we already did?" The web wing asked. "What if all we were supposed to do was rescue that weregoyle."

"Or the reason why we are here has something to do with him," Cecilia’s eyes went wide.

"Speaking of Canmore," Fang spoke up and point at the sky. "There he goes." The three of them stared at each other before nodding. There break was over. They gave there wings a light shake and Mercutio stretched out his limbs, before they took to the air again.

____________________________________________________________________________

Stringbean woke up from his nap when he heard Jack shouting for him. Where was he? Oh yeah. He pulled open the covering to the air duct and slip through. He hung from the edge of the opening and noticed that his feet dangled a few inches above a toilet. That’s right he crawled into the ventilation in the men’s room. It was the perfect hiding place, and he for once was glad for his scrawny body frame that enabled him to crawl inside and hid.

He felt sweat form in his hands and wanted to make sure he landed on the floor and not on the toilet, or technically in the toilet. Stringbean gave a light swing with his arms before he dismounted and landed on the floor.

"What’s taking so long kid?" Jack asked from the other side of the stall. "Did you fall in?" Stringebean adjusted his stained baseball cap while chuckling.

"I almost did," the younger man said as he opened the door. Dane was still in his tour guide outfit.

The rest of the gang was waiting for them. Brod was still wearing his security guard jacket.

"Gentlemen," the Czech smiled at them. "It is time to go." Stringbean knew it would have been stupid to ask about the rest of the security guards. He knew the rest of them must have been taken care of by the rest of the gang.

___________________________________________________________________________

They had thought they had lost sight of the weregoyle. Cecilia’s eyes searched the lower levels of the city. She was the one to see Canmore slipping through the window to one of the buildings

"He’s entering through the window," Cecilia pointed and shifted her wings so that she could dive. Fang glided up to her.

"We should enter from a different part, "the mutate said. "We would have more of an element of surprise that way."

"You are correct," the female nodded and changed direction along with Fang. The Avalon trio circled the museum and landed outside a window on the opposite side.

"Probably have an alarm system wired," Fang mumbled as he held out his hand. A claw rested an inch from the window frame. Fang shot out a small bolt of electricity that caused the old frame to glow. While the window smoked the cougar mutate gave it a light tap. "Took care of that." Cecilia smiled at him as she gripped the frame and tore it open.

__________________________________________________________________________

The tiled museum floor felt cold against the balls and toes of Jon’s feet. The people who worked inside it must have had the air condition on high all day. He couldn’t really tell if it was still on, not in his present state.

Jon’s eyes shifted around as he speed walked through the building. He paused when he thought he saw the slender glowing beam of light, but noticed was some sort of trickery caused by the moonlight being reflected by some of the glass display cases. He closed his eyes and shook his head causing his golden mane flowed down somewhere between his shoulders, swishing back and forth. He rubbed the area between his eyes. He’s been a weregoyle for over a year and he still couldn’t tell the different between a flashlight beam and refracted moonlight? Well he did deny himself of what he was and tried not to focus on his abilities, including his night vision.

He knew he didn’t have much time. He slowly lowered his body to the ground. He was still reluctant about having to lope. The thought of running on all fours like an animal made Jon’s skin crawl, but he did do it earlier that night when he was running behind Fang and his friends.

"Do na let it get t’ ye Jonny," Jon whispered while he placed his hands on the ground. "Yer na true gargoyle, yer a weregoyle." He breathed in deeply before he launched himself into a run.

He heard suspicious sounds coming from the upcoming left turn and prepared himself. His eyes lit up before he turned the corner.

Jon barely managed a growl before something big and red tackled him. His vision was still tinted with brightness when he stared at Mercutio’s face.

"Get off of me ye monster," Jon snarled. He felt the hands of a female on his ankles and furry hands on his shoulders.

"Not until you tell us how you got in and what you are doing here," Fang demanded.

" I peeled the wood paneling over the security wires and placed m’chain on top of them t’ short it out. Now I’m trying t’ Prevent a mystical gem from falling into the wrong hands ye daft cat."

"Yeah right and all three of us guys will end up on the cover of GQ," Fang grunted. "Now give us the real reason."

"I just did. Today is the premiere of the Corazon de Quilla. The Heart of Quilla." The weregoyle felt the female let go and the weight shift of the web wing.

"Mama Quilla?" Cecilia blinked. "We have seen her on Avalon."

"Aye," Jon said. "And ye said it yerselves that Avalon sent ye here. Now why would Avalon send ye here on opening day of a diamond like crystal being viewed at a museum?"

"You think someone might try to steal it?" Fang asked unblinking,

"Fang?" Cecilia’s voice was tense and her brow ridges were arched in a worried expression. "That gem could have magical properties. We wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands like when The Archmage possessed the Eye of Odin." Her rookery brother nodded as he pushed him self off of Canmore.

"We’ve been wanting to know why Avalon sent us here." The web wing said. "This is probably why." Jon nodded and sat up into a crouch. He turned himself around and took off loping into the opposite direction. Both Cecilia and Mercutio immediatly dropped ,but while Mercutio raced after him Cecilia turned around and just stared at Fang. The mutate had his eyes wide open and his jaw haining.

"Are you feeling well?" The gray female asked. Fang blinked before shaking his head.

"Yeah," the cougar mutate crouched to the ground. "It was just seeing Canmore run on all fours. He’s changed a lot."

Mercutio had raced ahead of Jon and kept his ears open for anything that sounded his suspicious. He felt his ears perk up when he heard the grating sound of a tool twisteing against stone or possibly metal and changed drections.

Jon noticed the long and wide banner that hung from the ceiling. It bold and bright colored words had spelled out that the display of corazon de Quilla was debuting in the room that Mercutio had entered. Jon sped up and leaped. He landed on the end of the red gargoyle’s tail causing him to let out a small gasp.

"Be quiet," Jon cautioned after he pulled the web wing back and covered his mouth with his gloved hand. He heard the others catch up and pause. "We do na want t’ loose the element of surprise."

"These two think alike," Cecilia whispered while pointing at both mutate and weregoyle.

"Well we are both former humans," Fang shrugged. Jon nodded at him and felt Mercutio poke his arm with one of his talons. The red gargoyle held up his hand for silence and pointed. At the far end of the room was a group of men. They had surrounded a glass display case that contained a crystal the size of a human fist.

"Any plans?" Fang whispered before noticing that Cecilia crawled forward on the ground. She paused to hide behind other displays and stuck mostly to the shadows as she kept getting closer to the men.

Jack pushed hard on the screwdriver while he jiggled it. The unmistakable clicking of the last lock being undone brought a smile to his lips.

"There," the oldest member of Brod’ gang said while wiping the sweat off his forehead. Two of the other gang members new how to cut the wire that triggered the alarm without setting off the alarm, but he was the only one who knew how to use the tiny screwdriver in unlocking small locks. "We can get it open."

"Good work my friend," Brod smiled and grabbed on to the glass along with Stringbean. Both men removed the covering. The crystal was even more scintillating from having the glass dome removed.

"It’s beautiful." He reached out to take the spherical gem. The cry of a wildcat caused him to freeze in place and the yelp of one of his men caused them all turned to a gray female gargoyle in a black halter top pick up one of the gang members.

"No!" Brod gnashed while Jack and two other gang members pulled out there guns. "Not here." Another roar echoed through the air. This time it was deeper and louder. A red web winged male gargoyle leaped forward and aimed at another gang member’s jaw with his foot. His lower talons met their mark and the tall man was sent backwards, dropping his gun.

"They are everywhere," Brod handed Stringbean the crystal. "First in Prague, then in New York and now in Atlanta. He heard a gun being fired and looked up to see that one of his men had shot the male gargoyle through his webbing. The gang leader smiled as the sixth member aimed his gun that was still smoking at the gargoyle’s head. The smile faded when one appeared to have been lightening radiate out and strike the weapon. The man dropped the smoking gun where it had become a half melted mess before a third gargoyle, no it wasn’t a gargoyle, not quirt land on him. The third creature was more of a winged cougar man and he was about to reach for his own gun when he felt himself being picked up from behind. Brod turned his head and stared into the glowing eyes of a green male gargoyle with long golden hair.

Dane turned around to see Stringbean holding the crystal in front of one of the windows and his leader being held up by a third gargoyle. This one was larger than the others but a bullet could take care of the creature.

"I had it with you beasts," Brod spat in Jon’s eyes before turning to look at Jack. Jon noticed that the older man was aiming a gun at him. With a grunt Jon threw Brod at the old gang member.

Stringbean was frozen in his spot as he watched the fight. No one paid any attention to hiim. Good. If they demanded him to hand it over he would. He felt hot. His skin felt singed as if he spent three hours in the sun. Sweat trickled down his face and kept his long bangs sticking to his forhead. His shirt was saturated with sweat and his damp palms was making it difficult for him to hold onto the gem. The same crystal that seemed to have deloped a glowing light from with in.

"Guys?" His lower lip trembled, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Not now," Brod waved him off once he and Jackson made it back to their feet. Three of the members were being beaten bye a winged creature each. Jack’s finger pressed against the trigger of the gun. It would have shot Fang if it hadn’t been for Mercutio. The injured gargoyle threw the melted gun at Jackson’s hand. Sending the other gun flying out as it fired. The bullet struck one of the walls.

"As you can see," Brod pointed out. "We have to kill the reptiles and the winged cat."

"Re-rep- reptiles?" Jon asked aghast. "Reptiles?" His eyes illuminated. "I may no longer be human, but I am na a reptile!"

Stringbean glanced down at the jewel again. The internal light had grown. It’s glow overtook the whole crystal making it appear that he was holding a sphere of pure light.

"Brod!" It was becoming difficult for him to talk. Each breath that he took pained his chest. "This thing-" he paused to take another painful breath. "is glowing."

Mercutio was prepared to try to pounce on Jack when he heard the pathetic shout of the one gang member who wasn’t fighting. Curious he glanced over and saw that he was holding onto a large ball of light.

"Look!" The red web wing pointed at the direction with his good arm. Cecilia and Fang dropped there half conscious gang members. Jon removed his glare of Brod and everyone stared at Stringbean. The young man stared at the space between his hands and struggled to breath. He could no longer feel the crystal. He seperated his hands and noticed that it had disappeared, but not the light. Both his arms were overcome with a glowing white light up to his elbows.

"What’s happening to him?" Cecilia asked. No one had any answers. Brod mumbled a string of words in his native tongue. The glowing light spread across Stringbean’s arms up to his shoulders and spread across his chest.

"Holy," Fang gasped as the light overtook Stringbean’s torso, abdomen and head.

"Shit!" Jack added as the glow took over all of Stringbean’s body. Cecilia closed her eyes and turned to the others.

"What are you doing?" The female gargoyle asked in a slightly appalled tone. "He needs are help."

"How?" Fang asked.

"I-" she was shouted down by a pain filled scream. The glowing form of Stringbean grew until it he doubled in size. Ripping sounds were heard before scraps of cloth piled around Stringbean’s feet.

"What the hell is going on?" Jack asked as the illumination faded.

Where there was once a frightened young man stood a hulking human form that stood at ten feet. While humanoid in form it appeared to be made out of the same crystal as the Corazon de Quilla except not as flawless. Light shone off each jagged edge. It’s hand were immense with large thick claws the size of a man’s arm from elbow to middle finger that gleamed like icicles. It turned it’s bald head towards the group, blinked it’s eyes that were like pure emeralds and opened it’s large square shaped jaw, exposing long pointed teeth the size of a hand.

"THIEVES!" It bellowed and pointed at them. "HOW DARE YOU ENTER THE SACRED CHAMBER OF MAMA QUILLA!"

"He’s talking to you guys," Fang pointed at Brod. The Czech gangster just shook his head while Jack recovered one of the discarded guns and aimed at the beast.

"NO WEAPON THAT A THIEF HOLDS CAN HARM ME!" The crystal beast lumbered towards them. Jack fired off three bullets at the beast. They bounced off him life rubber.

"Stop it," Brod frowned at the elderly gangster. "That thing was Stringbean."

"Your friend might still be inside," Cecilia nodded. "You might hurt him."

"I do not want any loyal member of my team to die." The gang leader turned back to the beast and tried to leap out of the way as the beast swatted at him as if he were a mere insect. The crystal beast tossed the rest of the gang aside. It paused in mid air when it was about to smack aside Cecilia, it’s eyes sparkled, and it turned away.

"Why won’t it attack me?" The female Aalonian asked.

"Don’t have a clue," Fang said while the beast picked up a gang member that was already badly bruised from fighting the gargoyles and while gripping around the waist pulled back his arm, like it was preparing to throw him. "Can’t let it hurt them." He held out his furry hands and aimed. Long rivulets of electricity fired from them and struck the beast in the back. Stunned it dropped it’s victim and turned around.

"WHY-" it called him a word that the mutate could not fathom. Must have been in Inca.

"What did you call me?" Fang asked as he stared at it in a quizzical manner. His head tilted from side to side.

"GARGOLAS Y HOMBRE GARGOLA," it’s eyes sparkled again. "GARGOYLES AND WEREGOYLE YOU ARE NOBLE BEINGS. WHY ATTACK A FELLOW BEING THAT PROTECTS?"

Jon’s jaw dropped.

"Because you were trying to kill them," Cecilia narrowed her eyes. "We were only going to over power them so that the-" she paused trying to think of the term. "Proper authorities can put them away."

"Ye know what I am?" Jon asked when he felt like he could move again.

"I’m not either of those," Fang frowned. "I’m a mutate."

"THESE THIVES TRY TO STEAL THE SACRED TREASURES OF MAMA QUILLA. THEY MUST BE KILLED."

"There is only one treasure," Cecilia stepped closer to it. "And you were made from it."

"OTHER THIEVES STOLE TH-" it paused when it felt something jab into back of it’s thigh. The creature turned to see Jack striking at him with the screw driver he used to unlock the display case.

"What kind of goddess did Donny say she was?" Jon clenched his talons trying to remember.

"Kid I know that you are in there," Dane said while twisting the tool. "Try to fight it."

"YOU!" the beast bellowed at him and turned completely around leaving the screw driver imbedded into his thigh. "YOU WERE ONCE A THIEF AND STOPPED, BUT YOU CAME BACK."

"Damn it Stringbean don’t be a pathetic wimp," Jack barked. "Over power it!"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE-" it’s paw shot forward, spearing Jack with it’s claws. "STAYED WHERE-" It’s hand with a skewered Dane struck one of the walls. "YOU WERE!"

"Jesus," Fang gasped. Cecila’s eyes lit up blood red as she snarled. The gray female leaped forward on the ground and then leaped onto the back of the crystal being while Jon flung himself onto the arm that held up Dane. The weregoyle reached forward and grabbed at its fingers. Harnessing all his strength he pulled back, snapping off one of it’s claws.

"YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO PROTECT THESE THIEVES?"

"We do not kill the criminals," Cecilia snarled. "We just stop them."

"ANYONE WHO TRIES TO SAVE THOSE WHO STEAL FROM MY GODDESS ARE MY ENEMY."

It was a night goddess. That was what Jon knew, but what part of the night? He knew it wasn’t of the night itself. Was it the stars? The moon? The moon!

"Quilla is a Moon goddess!" Jon shouted. "Block the light of the moon!"

"SILENCE!" The beast pulled out his hand causing Jack to fall to the ground and smacked Jon, sending the green weregoyle sprawling. It reached behind and plucked Cecilia from her back and would have tossed her if it wasn’t for Mercutio. The red gargoyle leaped to where Celia was. In his hands he held the shredded scraps that were once Stringbean’s clothing. He wrapped it over the green emeralds that served as the creatures eyes and held them together with his good hand while other scraps covered his shoulders.

"GET OFF ME!" it roared. "I NEED TO PROTECT MY GODDESS’S SACRED CHAMBER!"

"Sorry Toto you’re not in Peru," Fang growled. The mutate held his white shirt in his hands as he leaped onto the beasts chest. He threw his shirt over his shoulder and upper arm and leaped again. He caught the hanging ends of the shirt and hung onto them.

"Yer not so daft after all," Jon said with a slight smile. He had only the wind knocked out of him and he had recovered after only a few minutes. Jon ran around the beast holding his shirt and pants.

"Thank god you’re wearing those boxers," Fang said. "beast or not I don’t want to see what you have."

"Afraid ye cannae compete?" Like Fang Jon draped his clothes over the beast’s other arm and leaped up and grabbed parts of his clothing and hung, keeping his black clothes from falling off.

"GET OFF ME!" The creature sung its arms from side to side trying to throw both Fang and Jon off.

"Hey Merc can you steer Sparkles here away from the window?" Fang asked. He did not notice Brod was slowly lurching towards them. The gangster held on to his chest with his right arm and his securitu jacket with his left. He avoided the large jewel like feet of the beast as it side stepped.

"Don’t think so," Mercutio frowned. Fang wasn’t sure, but it looked like Mercutio’s face was paler. He was loosing a lot of blood from his gunshot wound.

"What is he doing?" Jon gasped as he watched Brod wrap the jacket around the beast’s leg that was closest to him.

"Don’t want anymore of my gang hurt," Brod explained while trying to hold on. Jon closed his eyes as he tried to keep hanging. The tip of his tail had dragged on the ground, but it seemed that more of his tail felt the cool hard tiled floor. He looked down his toes dangled slightly above the ground.

"YoU ArE WorKInG ToGEthER," It’s voice was not as powerful as before. "I THougHT GaRgoYLeS AnD WerEGoYleS WeRE GooD NoBlE CReaTUreS, BuT I WaS WroNG."

"Only about the gargoyles," Jon muttered. Where was that female? The sound of talons racing across the floor answered for him.

"Cecilia?" Fang gasped. Both former humans turned to see the female run towards them holding a rolled up paper material that had two long strings dangling from the top and the bottom. She circled around and leaped up behind it wrapping her legs around its waist and placing the large unrolled sheet on it.

"All Of You!" The beast sounded more human. A loud human, but human. Fang felt the ground on under his feet and glanced over to Canmore. The green gargoyle was tying the sleeves and pant legs around the beast’s arms. He looked down and saw that Brod was securing his jacket around the beast’s leg. "All Of You Are Against Quilla." Both Fang and Jon pulled the creature away from the windows while Cecilia and Brod pushed him.

"How Dare you! How dare yooouuu..." The beast shrank even more until the paper covering draped over him and it collapsed onto the ground, still covered with clothes and paper. Something clear, round and sparkling rolled from the pile.

"Oh no you don’t," Fang scrambled over to the crystal that only a few minutes earlier was merged with a human, and grabbed it. Cecilia pulled back the paper, revealing it to be the banner that hung over the entrance. Underneath was a naked comatose Stringbean. Deep reddish purple spots had formed on his skin where the bullets had struck him. One arm had deep pink burn mark, a hand had a fingernail broked off deep and was bleeding from the tip. Protruding from the back of his thigh was the screwdriver that Jack had twisted in. Cecilia reached down and tried to pull it out but it wouldn’t move. Gritting her teeth she twisted it the opposite way till it pulled out of the flesh, leaving behind a stream of blood. Brode grabbed his jacket from the floor and wrapped it around Stringbean’s leg. He grabbed the banner and rerolled it before placing it under the naked scrawny man’s feet.

Fang handed the crystal to Cecilia before he picked up his own shirt from the floor.

"Mercutio?" The mutate asked. The wounded gargoyle was by the side of Canmore and Dang. The former human had one hand on top of the other and was giving quick presses to Dane’s chest while counting. "What happened?" Jon didn’t look up from his compressions.

"I’m afraid this one’s heart stopped," Mercutio said sadly. "He says that he can save him but I don’t see how pressing down on his chest and blowing into his mouth is going to revive him."

"CPR," Fang observed. "It’s been known to work and since his wife is a healer he would know how to do it."

"Aye," Jon gasped and looked up. He reached over and grabbed the mutate’s wrists and pulled until Fang’s hands were over Jack’s chest. "Use yer gift." Fang sent a small charge into the Jack making his body give a light jump. Dane didn’t move. Fang gave another jolt, this time stronger.

"Again," Jon commanded. Fang shot out more energy. Nothing.

"If I go any stronger," Fang said between pants. "I’ll end up cooking his insides." He looked up at Jon with saddened eyes. "He’s gone."

"Nae," Jon closed his own eyes and shook his head. "He cannae."

"You have to accept it," Mercutio added while Fang did his best to wrap up his injured wing. The bullet went through the limb that was in the middle of the wings. Mercutio did his best to keep his arm and leg together while Fang tied his shirt around it.

Cecilia lowered her eyes when she learned that one of the humans had been killed and turned to Brod

"See what your theivery has caused?" She snarled at him. before turning to the others we have to take this with us to Avalon and give it back to it’s owner."

"The owners of the museum are going to want to know what happened to it," Fang pointed out.

"Safer this way," she answered before returning her focus to wrapping up the crystal in the cloth scraps. She gasped slightly when she noticed that the crystal had begun to glow again." "Oh no you don’t" She wrapped it up even faster.

"The claw," Mercutio said. The female turned to where the claw that Jon broke off earlier was. Like the crystal it glowed and seemd to being pulsating with light. A wide circular burst of white light filled the room causing everyone to shield their eyes. When Cecilia lowered her arm and opened her eyes she saw a second Corazon de Quilla on the floor were the clawwas.

"It cloned itself?" Fang asked.

"Nae," Jon anwsered. "It made a copy of itself in appearance only."

"So this is a dummy crystal?"

"Aye."

"The people who own this place will keep the dummy," Mercutio figured. "and we will return the real one to it’s owner."

"You are a clever thing," Cecilia smiled at her bundle. She tied the loose ends to her belt and followed the others tot he window. She noticed Jon staring sadly at the lifeless form of Dane.

"Don’t blame yourself," she told him. "I know it hurts when we failed to protect a life, even if was a thief." The weregoyle said nothing while he slipped back into his pants and shirt.

Cecilia helped her rookery brother onto Fang’s back. Mercutio held on tightly with his good talons. Cecilia climbed up first. She sank her talons into the pane of the window and tore it loose, setting off the alarm. she glanced back at the gang. They were too injured to flee.

____________________________________________________________________________

Lorrie’s room was dark when Jon returned. It didn’t prove a problem for his eyes. The weregoyle folded his wings and walked over to the bassinet. Colin was sleeping soundly. Jon smiled at him. The sight of his sleeping son nearly made him forget that an old man had died.

Lorrie was also asleep. Her regular clothes were exchanched for a pale green cotton night gown that had an image of Smurfette on it. To her it was a retro gown. Jon watched as her chest slowly rose and fell while her wine like hair flowed over her pillow. He waited for a few minutes before he pulled back the covers and crawled in.

___________________________________________________________________________

The skiff was still waiting for them in lake Claramere. Nobody in the park had noticed it.

"Prepare for landing," Fang announced. Both he and Cecilia carred their injured member. The mutate shifted his wings as they neared the skiff causing all three of them to hover a foot, then six inches then three over the craft. The landed was not clumsy nor bumpy.

"We are going back to Avalon?" Mercutio asked. Cecilia nodded.

"We need to get this-" she gently patted the pouch that was attached to her belt. "Back to it’s rightful owner." She truned to Fang. "Mercutio and I will make sure they do not attack you. We will convince them that you have changed."

"Maybe they will answer some of my questions," the mutate said.

"Like what?"

"Like what is the purpose of the crystal?"

"Good question," Mercutio said. Cecilia chewed her lower lip nd furrowed her brow ridge.

"Methinks that it was used by an appointed gaurdian," she said. "The guaridan would wear it when it protected Quilla’s sacred chamber of treasure and when a group of thieves tried to steal from the chamber the crystal changed the gaurdian into a simular beast to the one we just fought."

"I’ll buy that," the mutate said. "My second question is there were other weregoyles before Demona created them?"

Both gargoyles glanced at each other.

"I’d also like the answer to that question," the injured gargoyle said. Cecilia nodded while she cloaked her wings and shouted out the sacred words.

"Yotate venti fortunate exrege Oberonis et hic navis fluctum regate ad orae Avalonis."