Greg… His Bedroom

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“Well, I’m waiting?” Zia pushed off his chest to look up at him for emphasis.

“You had an… episode when you were sleeping last night.”

“Episode? What did I do?”

He had to tread lightly with this. Not an hour ago he was too spent to sit up without help. His faith in their eventual mating was reinforced, but still on fragile footing. When he was too depleted to move, Zia had known what he’d needed. Without hesitation, she’d given him enough energy to repair his body and feel better than he had in months.

They were making progress. With a little more time, he was certain Zia would grow to trust him enough to consider mating with him seriously.

In the meantime, there was the Dragofin Clan to consider. He’d given Lucien his word that he’d wait until meeting with the other mates before divulging anything more about their world to her.

“I’ll need to do some research to let you know exactly, but a surface attempt to make sense of it would suggest you were in a trance.”

Gray-green eyes looked up at him, eyes that were full of questions.

“My gut tells me there’s more you’re not telling me. How did you know I was in a trance in my sleep unless I did something loud enough for you to hear it from the other room?”

He’d rather gouge out an eye than lie to her. So, he didn’t.

“You’re correct. You were in pain and to the point of agony when I came into the room.”

“And?”

“And, I helped you calm down enough to return to normal rest.”

“Then why did I wake up to a cocoon of battle angel feathers?”

“Oh, that.”

“Greg Griffin if you try to gloss over that, I swear to God I’ll lose it. I know what I saw here and that night.”

That last part caught him by surprise. “That night of your kidnapping?” She nodded. “You remember?”

“Yes, and its part of the reason I had to come back—to you. You’ve come to me in my dreams as this fantastical beast, and I needed to know if I was making it all up as a weird and complicated coping mechanism.”

“I see.”

“Is that all you can say? I find out I’m not crazy and all you say is ‘I see’?”

“One thing you have right about this is that it’s complicated.”

“Unless you have somewhere to go, I’m all ears. Spill it. Please explain to me why you’re able to turn into the battle angel I woke up to and that other version I saw that night?”

The gig was up. There was no way he’d be able to get around this without lying. Pulling on Gryphon wisdom for the best words he was slightly underwhelmed with what came forth.

“That’s because I’m a Gryphon.”

“A what? That doesn’t sound like any sort of angel.”

His laugh was more snort at the absurdity than anything else. “My Zia, I am a Gryphon like from mythology. You might have seen representations on shields, family armors, and crests, or maybe your more familiar with the great sphinx of African lore and the pyramids?”

Inquisitive intelligence stared back at him. “I’m familiar with all that, but I saw you. You look more like an angel in both cases than those other depictions. I saw when you battled that thing that tricked me. You were my avenging angel.” What he’d come to learn in time was that this was the look of stubborn resolve settled over her facial features. “I don’t care what you call yourself. You’re my battle angel.”

She was amazing and taking this very well. He owed her more than the flippant answer he’d thrown out.

By the set of her mouth, another question popped up that she wanted answers to. “Greg, are you holy like an angel? I mean, is that why you never reacted to my advances?”

He had to tread lightly with his answer. Pain and hurt wafted from her in waves. Unknowingly, he’d hurt her when he’d dodged her interest earlier. Rejection had been the last signal he’d wanted to communicate.

“No, I’m not like the angels you’re referring to. As for how I reacted to you yesterday,” he paused to allow Gryphon wisdom to guide him through this potential minefield of screw-ups. Say the wrong thing or even the right thing the wrong way, and she might never accept him and their mating. “I haven’t pursued you in the manner which I’d like because I require more than you might be willing to give at this time.”

Her eyes grew large as she reared back and said, “Please don’t tell me you’re a vampire battle angel.” Her smile threw him in confusion as she made the sign of the Christian cross.

Her smile was infectious as he felt the tension leave him.

“No, I’m not part of that species.” Sensing the path to take on what he could reveal at that point, he added, “I’m considered a shifter or were-being.” When she looked confused, he continued, “Those are terms to classify me as part humanoid and part beast.”

“Wait,” she held up a hand to stop him. “Does that mean you’re not human?”

“It means I’m human AND beast. I can change my form to what you would describe as part bird of prey that resembles an eagle and part lion. That’s why I’m considered a Gryphon or Sphinx.”

He paused to see her mouth hanging open ever so. The look managed to paint her in a light of wonder. He could almost hear the wheels turning in that sharp mind of hers as she toiled with the new information.

He waited, certain she had more questions. Questions he hoped to answer without conflict with his oath to his leader, Lucien. His mind drifted to wonder if his brother, Matt, had come across a similar conundrum in dealing with Wren before their mating was completed?

She cocked her head to the other side, and that’s when he saw it. At this angle, the morning light of the bedroom illuminated a faint scar that started at her temple and ran down her face and neck to disappear under her pajama top. Without censure, his finger made contact with her soft skin to trace the razor-thin line.

Her voice lassoed his attention.

“Greg, is everything okay? I mean, I like you touching my face, but you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Zoning out to that far away place you go sometimes.” A shroud descended over her features as her hand rose to clasp his fingers. Holding them still against the pulsing thump of a nerve in her neck, she said, “This scar is my constant reminder of how close I came to death. I have you to thank for being here today.”

“You got that scar during your rescue?” He had to find out as much about it before raising his concerns and conjecture about what happened last night.

“Actually, I got it before. Patrick used one of his… sharp talons to break the skin the first night he captured me. He attached some weird wires to it as if to drain my life through it. I felt like he used that area as a point to leech me of my life-force.” When her eyes averted his to look downward, Greg pulled her chin back up to face him.

“I wish I could rewind time so that you never had to experience that.”

Her eyes glistened. His heart flipped with a surge of indignation for what happened to her that night and last night. How could he tell her that her mark might still be tethered to other-worldly entities?

“I believe you would if you could. Thank you. This version of you is what, I mean, who I saw that night in full shift. You looked like you’d battle to the end to help me.”

“I would then, and always.”

Her laugh was soft with a bit of introspection holding back a full expression of emotion. “So that you know, I still say you look like a fierce angel. And, if I’m not mistaken your wings looked larger that night.”

She’d moved on. He would too.

“You’d be right. My wings coincide with my form and how much weight they have to lift. When I partially shift, my wings aren’t as large.”

“That’s fascinating.”

He loved how her head was cocked to the side as she gave him her full attention. He’d take advantage of this to share some of the Gryphon histories he loved so much.

“Interesting note about the concept of angels and demons involves Gryphon.”

She perked up and said, “How so?”

He adjusted to lean back more before answering. She followed suit readjusting and snuggling to find a new comfortable spot on his lap. Greg could get used to this with Zia in the blink of an eye. He started his tale with her hanging on every word.

“Many years ago when humanity was less reliant on science and technology when regular humans encountered my kind, they would believe us to be angels sent from God. As you can see, in human form, I’m larger than most men. That has always been the case when we’re compared to our regular human counterparts.” He stayed away from the fact that he was not a human of this earth. The part about being alien to this planet would come if his meeting with the other mates went well.

She was hooked.

Enjoying his rapt audience, Greg continued the tale. “Since most humans of that time where highly superstitious, Gryphon rarely shifted to full beasts in their presence. Instead, doing a partial shift like what you saw when you woke. Most encounters between Gryphon and regular humans,” he had to make sure not to speak of them as earth dwellers or any other tip-off to his non-earth origins, “were during battle, danger, or other special circumstances. Usually, Gryphon were in a position to render rescue to humans. Those good deeds coupled with the fact that we can fly were the features that fueled the angel lore.”

“Wow, I can totally see that. You rescued me, and I had no other way to describe what I saw. And, this is during the age of science and technology. I can only imagine what they thought about you back then.” She grew introspective for a brief moment. “Hey, you have brothers here. They’re big like you.” With a sheepish grin, she asked, “Are they Gryphon too?”

And there it was. He’d talked himself into a corner. Before he could figure out how to answer that, she spoke again.

“Whoa, wait a minute! You said angels AND demons. Then who are the demons?”

Whew! Maybe he could keep this general and not go too far into the Dragofin Clan identity.

Best to use as few words as possible for this one.

He made his vocal tone as flat as possible to discourage follow up questions as he said, “Most of the time real demons were never seen as such. The beings misunderstood to be demons from ancient times are the mighty Dragons.”

“What?” He found how she elongated that word endearing. She was inquisitive, and it was sexy as fuck. She spoke again, pulling him back to concentrate on what she said. “You mean to tell me Dragons are real, and they are who we think demons are?”

He nodded and prayed she didn’t ask more questions.

“How did Dragons get confused as demons. I thought they were supposed to be these magical, mythical creatures who hid out in caves and hordes of treasure?”

Again, short answer, he reminded himself.

“It’s the horns and fearsome appearance.”

“Oh, I guess I can see that.” She grew quiet again, but Greg could hear the wheels turning in her head.

“Did humans kill Dragons because of a bad rap for being mistaken for demons?”

Hmm, he hadn’t put those two points together before. By the way, she phrased it, Zia believed Dragons were extinct.

“Hard to say. What I can say is that real demons usually mimic the look of being human and can share human bodies. Depending on their strength, some can take many forms, but it’s their core orientation to destroy, devour, steal, and possess along with the power to pull all that off that make them demonic.”

“Eek! You’re saying that demons are real and can possess people?”

“I’m saying that many people are demons. In some instances, more than one entity inhabits a body, and some things go bump in the night.”

“Yeah, I believe that. Patrick would fit that category with ease.” Her body did an involuntary shudder as the statement settled.

Not wanting the mood to dampen, he gave her an assuring hug. That got a huge smile response. Then she sat up.

“Ooh, hold on, I need to pee.” She looked over at the bathroom door and then back up to him. “Um, is that TMI—you know—too much information?”

“No, when you have to go you’ve got to go. It’s biology, and we can’t fight that. Go—I’ll be here.”

She laughed, catching his play on words. “Thanks, I’ll make it quick. I have so many questions to ask when I get back.”

His stomach did a little drop at that. Greg already skirted too close to the edge with what he’d told her so far. When she got back, he’d have to navigate the conversation to safer territory, like how to engage in aerial assault or something.

One thing he wouldn’t trade was how easy it had become to talk with her. She was fun, funny, and attentive. She scrambled off his lap and made funny sounds to signal how badly she needed to relieve herself.

“My bladder is not feeling me right now. Please, Lawd, let me make it in time.”

“You will. I have faith in the strength of your bladder,” he allowed the joke to fly knowing she’d receive it well.

His reward was a huge, goofy grin she tossed back at him. He allowed his laugh to fill the space when she made it to the floor and did her “little pee-pee dance” as she called it before disappearing into the bathroom.

Right before she closed the door, Zia said, “And don’t think I miss the fact that you said vampires are a species, i. e., their real. When I get back, you’re going to spill all the tea.”

“Tea? I don’t have any tea up here.”

She peeked out and gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “Duh—it’s a saying to mean you’re going to give up all the information.”

“Oh. Got it.”

She closed the door, and he immediately felt the loss of her heat and energy.

That’s when he felt the gentle nudge of Lucien requesting a neural link. With Zia in the bathroom, he accepted.

“Hey, are you awake and all right?” Lucien asked.

“Yes, to both. Why what’s up?”

“It’s Wren. She says she had weird dreams and felt pain associated with Zia and you all night. She asked me to contact you to make sure everything was normal.”

“Wow, Wren sensed that while down in their nest?”

“Yes. Wren feels strongly enough about this that she’s not going to work until we confirm you two aren’t in danger, or as she put it ‘put eyes on you for her damn self.’ You know it’s real when Wren talks like that.” Lucien took a pause. Greg knew his friend well enough to give the moment time to breathe. He was right. Lucien’s thought came through with powerful emotional concern. “Greg, did something happen?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t had time to unpack it or discuss it fully with Zia yet.”

“Well, that train has left the station. Wren is demanding we all get together as soon as both of you are awake and can come up to the meeting room.”

“What?” Greg checked his sense of time to realize it was almost eight in the morning.

“Can you get Zia up and ready to meet in thirty minutes? I have Miss Connie sending breakfast over. We’ll have a breakfast meeting.”

“Luc, will everyone be there? I don’t want to overwhelm Zia.”

“No, just You, Zia, Hildy, Ajax, Matt, Wren, Quinn and me. The others are in a deep sleep until our next assignment.”

The idea popped into his mind, so he went with it. “Could you check to see if Miss Connie could join us? I have some questions she might be able to answer about what happened last night.”

“Yeah, I’ll have her attend. Greg, are you sure everything is good? I don’t want to expose our mates to something that might be dangerous.”

Anger flared, but Greg caught it in time. “Yes, I’m sure. Zia is harmless. What happened to her isn’t. I want to get to the bottom of it. Miss Connie might know how to help with that.”

Lucien must have read his tone correctly. He said, “Hey, bro, I’m just doing what I can to protect the family.”

“I know, and Zia will be part of this family very soon.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“She will. Look, I need to go and let her know we have to be upstairs in a half hour. See you then.”

Without any other warning, Greg ended the neural link in time to hear the water from the sink shut off. He took a few seconds to cool down as the door to the bathroom opened.

He reveled watching her skip and dance back to the bed.

“What’s with the face?” She motioned to his face as she climbed back into bed.

“I got a call from Lucien. We need to get dressed and meet him upstairs in a half hour.”

“Huh?” He hated the look of confusion mixed with a wee bit of fear that managed to make her forehead crease ever so. “Are we in trouble?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Then to inject a bit of levity back into the atmosphere, he said, “Wanna flip for the bathroom? I’m not going to assume you take a long time to get ready, but I will say I do an Olympic-speed bathroom prep.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but Zia played along. “Go ahead, your hunch is right. I do take a long time to get ready.” Then she added, “especially when doom is on the horizon.”

“Cheer up. Miss Connie’s breakfast will be waiting for us.”

“Food? Talk about burying the lead on that one. Note to Greg. When you want me to move my ass, and food’s involved, always, and I mean always, lead with the food. I can walk through hell on a cobweb for a buttered biscuit.” Then with a wink and triumphant grin, she said, “We got this. Bacon and buttered biscuits make me bad and bougie. Now, hurry up in there. I need breakfast food!”

And this was why Zia was his mate. They would take this journey together. When he made it to the bathroom, Greg sent a quick neural link to Lucien to make sure bacon and biscuits were on order.