FREED (Angels and Gargoyles Book 2) by Brenda L. Harper Read Free Book Online

Ellie, and then Sam, and, finally, Wyatt.
    She would bring that to them. And there was no way around it.
    Sleep did come, surprisingly. She was only vaguely aware of it. She did not dream this time, not even the pleasant dreams that normally came after a long day of walking. Her sleep was too deep for dreaming. Until, of course, Stiles broke through with his warning.
    Gargoyles, Dylan. Wake up.
    It was like an alarm clock. Or a splash of cold water on her face.
    Dylan sat up immediately.
    She didn’t hear anything at first. Just the deep breathing of the other people in the room, each sleeping just as soundly as she had been. Only Wyatt was awake, standing in a distant doorway, watching over his sleeping followers like a guardian angel.
    Dylan closed her eyes and concentrated on Stiles. Where?
    Close. Just a few miles away.
    She climbed to her feet and carefully made her way across the room. Wyatt turned in her direction before she had moved more than a few steps. He didn’t speak, but she could feel the caution in his gaze.
    “What?” he asked when she finally reached him.
    “Gargoyles.”
    “Where?”
    “A few miles out.”
    Wyatt studied her face for a second before he nodded. “Wake them,” he said, gesturing into the room. “I’ll go see if I can distract them.”
    “No, Wyatt…” she began, but he was gone before the words were even out of her mouth.
    She went to Sam, shaking his shoulder as she crouched down beside him. He opened his eyes, sleep leaving them the moment he saw her. He sat up. “What?”
    “Gargoyles,” she said.
    He nodded, his gaze moving around the room. “Where’s Wyatt?”
    “He went out to distract them.”
    Sam’s face tightened. Dylan just nodded. “Wake the rest.”
    She started to stand, but he grabbed her wrist. “Be careful,” he said.
    She laid her hand over his for a long second. There was so much she wanted to say to him in that moment, but she wouldn’t have known where to start. So she just squeezed his hand and pulled away.
    Wyatt stood under the shadows of the doorway to the building across the street. Dylan looked up into the sky, but she couldn’t see anything. A breeze passed over her, and she found herself falling backward toward the door she had just stepped through.
    Inside.
    She glared into the empty air. “They’re coming for me,” she said. “I’m not going to stay in there and lure them to the others.”
    There was no response, but there was also no breeze that pushed her back as she started across the street again.
    Wyatt didn’t argue with her. But, again, there was no time. The moment she joined him, three gargoyles became visible in the sky above them. They were huge creatures, each resembling something like a marble statue, complete with thick, white skin and long, almost leathery, wings. Each was compact, its body huge and rounded, each with muscles that looked as though they might be capable of lifting one of the tall buildings sitting on this street. They were not the prettiest gargoyles Dylan had ever seen. Most gargoyles were grotesque in some way, their heads misshapen or their bodies disproportionate. These seemed particularly deformed in both body and facial features.
    They landed in the street and turned to face Dylan and Wyatt, their wings detracting and disappearing as golden axes appeared in their hands. Wyatt straightened, pushing Dylan behind him even as his samurai sword slipped from its scabbard strapped across his back.
    “No matter what happens, you have to stay back.”
    “Give me your six shooter.”
    “It won’t do you any good against these.”
    Dylan laid her hand on his hip. “Let me have it anyway.”
    Wyatt groaned, but he slipped it from its holster and handed it back to her. Dylan held it tight against her chest, wishing she had her knife. She wasn’t sure where it was. Back at camp, sitting near the wooden block she had used to cut up a chicken the night before the Redcoat attack, maybe. That was the last