Read Online FREED (Angels and Gargoyles Book 2) by Brenda L. Harper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brenda L. Harper
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have much choice,” Demetria said.
It was too much like what Lily had said. That sense of sliminess was back, coating her throat so that she thought for a moment she wouldn’t be able to speak again. She cleared her throat as she took a few more cautious steps backward.
“But that’s where you’re wrong,” Dylan said. “I have all the choices I could want.” She waved her arm around herself. “I can run. I can go back to the resistance. I could go back to Viti—”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Donna broke in, her voice filled with skepticism.
Dylan focused on the girl she had once considered a sister. “And what happens when they win? When Luc and Lily are gone?”
A little uncertainty filled Donna’s eyes as she glanced first at Demetria and then the gargoyles. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m sure we would be free to do what we chose.”
“Will we?” Dylan gestured toward Demetria. “Do you really think that they will want abominations roaming the earth after their humans are free to repopulate it? Do you think they will want our blood mixing with that of the humans? Do you think they want to risk the idea of us rising up against the humans one day?”
“Dylan,” Demetria began, but Dylan shook her head.
“Nothing you can say will change the reality of what is happening here.” Dylan waved her hand around, indicating all the people there, human, gargoyle, and hybrid. “You have a single purpose. And that purpose does not include me or my kind.”
Even as Demetria bent her head to agree, Donna began shaking her own. She reached for Dylan, grabbing her arms and forcing her body close, holding her against her chest like a mother scolding a child.
“Do you really think your friends have plans for a better future?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Do you think Davida would plan my eventual execution?”
Donna’s eyes widened. “Davida?” she asked.
“Yes, Donna. Davida is with the resistance. With Wyatt’s father and all the others who are fighting against Luc and Lily.”
Dylan could see the emotions playing over Donna’s face, could see doubt begin to wiggle its way into her thoughts. But then she kind of shook her head, a small movement that was not really a shake but couldn’t be described as anything else, either.
“We have to do the right thing,” Donna said.
“I agree,” Dylan said. “But I don’t think the gargoyles are going about it the right way.”
“And what is the right way?”
Dylan looked over Donna’s shoulder at her companions, her friends. Wyatt was watching her, his feet spread wide as though he was ready to rush to her aid at less than a second’s notice. Her cowboy. The one person she could count on in a moment of peril.
“I don’t know,” she said, focusing on Donna again. “But it can’t include the complete destruction of a whole group of people just because of their genetic makeup…whatever that is.”
“Dylan—”
“No, not even for you, Donna,” Dylan said, the pain in her chest almost overwhelming as it burst over and over again with the hurt she could clearly see in her sister’s eyes.
Donna studied her for a second. Then her grip on Dylan’s arms tightened just enough to hurt before she let her go. “You do what you need to do,” Donna said, so quietly Dylan had to strain to hear her. “But if you think they haven’t lied to you, that they aren’t going to use you in the same way, you should stop burying your head in the sand.”
Donna turned back to Demetria and shook her head with more energy than might have been warranted by the situation. Demetria focused on Dylan, her eyes narrowed. “You’re making a mistake,” she said. Then she snapped her fingers, and the other gargoyles disappeared. Demetria morphed back into her gargoyle form, grabbed Donna under the arms, and disappeared as well.
“Goodbye, Sister,” Dylan whispered as her knees failed her and she fell to the floor, the adrenalin of the last
It was too much like what Lily had said. That sense of sliminess was back, coating her throat so that she thought for a moment she wouldn’t be able to speak again. She cleared her throat as she took a few more cautious steps backward.
“But that’s where you’re wrong,” Dylan said. “I have all the choices I could want.” She waved her arm around herself. “I can run. I can go back to the resistance. I could go back to Viti—”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Donna broke in, her voice filled with skepticism.
Dylan focused on the girl she had once considered a sister. “And what happens when they win? When Luc and Lily are gone?”
A little uncertainty filled Donna’s eyes as she glanced first at Demetria and then the gargoyles. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m sure we would be free to do what we chose.”
“Will we?” Dylan gestured toward Demetria. “Do you really think that they will want abominations roaming the earth after their humans are free to repopulate it? Do you think they will want our blood mixing with that of the humans? Do you think they want to risk the idea of us rising up against the humans one day?”
“Dylan,” Demetria began, but Dylan shook her head.
“Nothing you can say will change the reality of what is happening here.” Dylan waved her hand around, indicating all the people there, human, gargoyle, and hybrid. “You have a single purpose. And that purpose does not include me or my kind.”
Even as Demetria bent her head to agree, Donna began shaking her own. She reached for Dylan, grabbing her arms and forcing her body close, holding her against her chest like a mother scolding a child.
“Do you really think your friends have plans for a better future?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Do you think Davida would plan my eventual execution?”
Donna’s eyes widened. “Davida?” she asked.
“Yes, Donna. Davida is with the resistance. With Wyatt’s father and all the others who are fighting against Luc and Lily.”
Dylan could see the emotions playing over Donna’s face, could see doubt begin to wiggle its way into her thoughts. But then she kind of shook her head, a small movement that was not really a shake but couldn’t be described as anything else, either.
“We have to do the right thing,” Donna said.
“I agree,” Dylan said. “But I don’t think the gargoyles are going about it the right way.”
“And what is the right way?”
Dylan looked over Donna’s shoulder at her companions, her friends. Wyatt was watching her, his feet spread wide as though he was ready to rush to her aid at less than a second’s notice. Her cowboy. The one person she could count on in a moment of peril.
“I don’t know,” she said, focusing on Donna again. “But it can’t include the complete destruction of a whole group of people just because of their genetic makeup…whatever that is.”
“Dylan—”
“No, not even for you, Donna,” Dylan said, the pain in her chest almost overwhelming as it burst over and over again with the hurt she could clearly see in her sister’s eyes.
Donna studied her for a second. Then her grip on Dylan’s arms tightened just enough to hurt before she let her go. “You do what you need to do,” Donna said, so quietly Dylan had to strain to hear her. “But if you think they haven’t lied to you, that they aren’t going to use you in the same way, you should stop burying your head in the sand.”
Donna turned back to Demetria and shook her head with more energy than might have been warranted by the situation. Demetria focused on Dylan, her eyes narrowed. “You’re making a mistake,” she said. Then she snapped her fingers, and the other gargoyles disappeared. Demetria morphed back into her gargoyle form, grabbed Donna under the arms, and disappeared as well.
“Goodbye, Sister,” Dylan whispered as her knees failed her and she fell to the floor, the adrenalin of the last
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