Myths and Gargoyles by Jamie Hawke (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

students were on the stage in the middle of a scene from a play called Cabin 12. The rest of the class was too enraptured to even look our way. I could tell why, as the younger guy had started in about some football game and was kicking ass, getting all emotional about it. By my guess, the brother had been injured or killed.

Sharon pulled me by the sleeve, reminding me that we weren’t there for the show. She led me around back, down to the side of the stage where the actors usually entered, and only then did the teacher see us. I noticed her stand to come after us, but then she seemed to have second thoughts, and sat down again.

Turning back to Sharon, I saw her giving a wave. She explained, “A guardian, but she knows me.”

“And me?”

“She doesn’t know you.”

We continued to an area that looked like it was set up for props, and she pulled a lever. I had to laugh, as it totally had a whole set-piece feel to it. As we entered, I was taken back to my one semester as a stagehand in high school. Of course it had been a way to try to meet a girl, and when that hadn’t panned out, I quit.

Stairs circled down into the ground in a way that brought me back to DuckTales memories, but before the end she put a hand on my chest and said, “Here.”

“Transformation time?”

She nodded, hand still on my chest. “Are you ready?”

“I didn’t know I had a choice.”

“Good.” With a grin, she closed her eyes, darkness coming over her.

“I thought—”

“That we could do it without the darkness?” she asked, voice hushed and pained, then she shook her head. “The key is to allow in just enough. Like when you know getting angry will help in a situation, but not letting it get the best of you.”

I closed my eyes, focusing, but nothing happened.

Her eyes had a shadow to them, her hands trembling as she took mine, and she said, “The anger. Allow it in.”

Our eyes met and I focused there, trying to think of nothing but transforming. But that was wrong. She said to let the anger in. I didn’t know what to be angry about… at first. Then it started sweeping over me, how pissed I was at the thought that I’d come into this role without warning, that my ability to interact with my family was going to be incredibly limited going forward. Fuck that!

My chest convulsed as if I was gagging, my shoulders expanding and my hands clenching into fists.

Only, it was coming on too fast. I was seeing all of the fuckers who’d tried to kill us, all of the Shades and their bullshit, imagining killing them all and loving it. Pucky had stabbed that magic blade into my chest without warning, and… and… who the hell was I kidding, my life was awesome—at least, that’s what I reminded myself of to pull myself together. And it was, truly. My mind went to the way Pucky laughed, the adoring smile of Elisa and the sensation of painting each other, and even Red with her silly Goth ways that all seemed a bit of a show now that I knew her.

The feeling of Sharon’s hands in mine, as strong and clawed as they were, helped pull me back. I opened my eyes to see the werewolf version of her staring at me, and me as a werewolf in the reflection of her eyes. We’d done it, and neither of us was tearing into the other, so that was a good sign.

Without a word, she motioned me to follow her. Our hands fell apart, unfortunately, and then we were pushing through a rounded oak door into a den. A curved ceiling of dirt was overhead, several tunnels branching out from this wide room. There were a few thick blankets on one side of the room with men and women lounging on them, and it reminded me of the pictures of opium dens I’d seen.

As we drew closer, it became clear they weren’t ordinary men and women, but trolls. They looked at us, apparently not finding any need to challenge two werewolves, before returning to their lazy afternoon. That worked well for us, and soon we were going down one of the hallways.

Here we passed a tall monster made of stone, its eyes glowing green and moving as it tracked me going past it. It grunted as it started to stand, grinding stones raising a commotion.

“Back off,” Sharon said to it, standing in its way.

At first I thought she was talking to the golem, but then noticed her paw behind her, motioning me away. Maybe if it couldn’t see me, we wouldn’t have a problem? I did as she said, slipping into the curve of the passage behind, and coming to a small nook where a homeless-looking woman was riding a man, oversized breasts flapping about and fangs bared. I couldn’t help but notice, as I drew closer, that the clothes on her back weren’t clothes at all, but black feathers on folded wings.

They both turned to glare at me, so I looked away but kept moving past them.

“Night Raven,” Sharon said as she caught up. “Found myself one, too.”

Her hand found mine again, and now the woman—Night Raven, was grinning.

“Join us, then,” Night Raven said. “No need for being shy.”

“I’m eager to have him meet the witches,” Sharon countered, trying to squeeze between the two copulating bodies and me.

“Nonsense,” Night Raven said, wings spreading and blocking our path while she continued to ride the guy. “Come now, let’s see what a werewolf cock looks like.”

I gulped, not expecting this to be part of the mission. Sharon growled, barely audible, and turned, giving me an apologetic look. The expression on my face was probably one of confusion, but I gave her a slight nod. Damn, if this was what we needed to get out of there, I wasn’t