Myths and Gargoyles Jamie Hawke (i read a book .TXT) 📖

trying understand where I was. It was all a haze. Then I processed that I was seeing Goth Girl, but now she was wearing a red cloak with a hood, and she had a dagger tucked in her belt. The petite lady walked up to check on me, and I rubbed my eyes, confused, earning an uncomfortable smile from her.

“They’re real,” she said, reaching up and touching one of the two horns that rose up from her forehead. She didn’t look demonic, exactly. She had more of a sprite feel to her. She smiled and held out a hand, and that gesture put me at ease, to a degree. Despite feeling completely rested, I was still trying to figure out if I was in a dream or if my eyes were playing tricks on me. Why the costumes all of a sudden, if that’s what they were? Was this all to mess with me?

Suddenly I sat up, realizing I wasn’t in the trailer at all, but in some sort of lab. There were other people moving about, including one who had green skin and a witch’s hat, another who looked like the Nutcracker, and one who was wearing flowers and carrying a wand.

“Where am I?” I asked, trying to hide the nervous cracking in my voice. “Why—why was I moved?”

“Jack,” Goth Chick whispered, staring into my eyes. “Do you believe in fairy tales?”

I frowned, shook my head, and laughed nervously. “Like in real life? Of course not…” Only, as I said it a strange sensation took hold of me, and I realized I was seeing a green aura around this lady. Looking at the others, it was the same. “Am I high? What’d you give me?”

“Not high,” she said. “You’re experiencing a manifestation of your ability to see who’s real and who’s a Myth. You see, everything you’ve heard in fairy tales? It’s all real, Jack. Well, versions of it. We’re as real as you are, and we need you to save us.”

It was hard not to laugh, equally hard not to run. I stared, confused. Judging by the serious look in her eyes, she believed everything she was saying. I didn’t want to appear to be rude, but I realized that I needed to find a way out of there.

4

First step, run. I stood, desperately looking around for an exit, and noticed the others all staring at me.

“Don’t do it,” the petite woman with horns said. “Every Protector has the same thought as you at first, but the sooner you accept what I’m telling you, the quicker we can get you trained up.”

“I’m just… gotta…” I took a step but she moved to block me, Goth Chick closing in on my other side. “Move out of my way, lady.”

“Pucky,” the horned lady said.

“As in… Puck,” I caught on, giving her a skeptical look. “Excuse me for calling that bullshit. And you,” I turned to the other one. “Red Riding Hood?”

“Red is fine,” she replied. “Sometimes Pucky goes by Robin, named after her great grandpa, believe it or not.”

“Not,” I said, and made a dash for the closest door and past Pucky, since she was the smaller of the two.

Big mistake.

She caught me in two steps, grabbing me by the back of my jacket and pulling so that I fell back, my legs flying out in front of me. I landed on my ass with a thud. Damn, that hurt—and would probably leave a bruise on my tailbone for a day or two. She knelt over me, using her other hand to grip the front of my shirt, and stared into my eyes with an unwavering gaze.

“Don’t do that again,” she said. “Hurting you isn’t… I mean, that’s not…”

“She’s not into that stuff,” Red said, walking over to join her and pulling her dagger, which she pointed my way. “I, however, get off on it. So try to run again and you’re fucked, got it?”

“The hell?” I protested. “Am I a prisoner here, or this Protector thing? Because I gotta say, it feels like the former.”

“Only if you run.”

“Stop it,” Pucky said to her companion, then pulled me up with a quick jerk. Looking up at me, she said, “We need you, and fast, which is why we can’t afford to let you run off. You’re not a prisoner but you have to listen.”

“Since I have no choice…” I gestured for her to go on with a circular wave of my hand.

“Have a seat,” she replied, and pulled me back to the chair.

A man who looked very much like a bear—large and covered in hair— along with another who was wearing a turban and carrying a long, curved scimitar, both approached to stand behind Red.

“We have a problem?” the one with the turban asked in a sinister voice.

“Not yet,” Red replied, sheathing her blade.

They grunted and started to walk off, but Pucky turned and said, “Sinbad, Papa Bear,” and waited until they’d paused to look her way. “Keep an eye out, will you? Tell the troops. Now that the Protector’s been named, we might have trouble.”

With a nod, the two large men moved toward a couple of the others to spread the word. Pucky and Red focused on me again.

“Sinbad?” I shook my head then laughed. “This is fun, okay. Sure, but it’s not going to do much for helping me sleep, so I should really be—”

“Again, you’re not going anywhere,” Red said. “Pucky, let’s get it over with.”

“Right.” Pucky pulled up another chair, sitting on it with her legs folded in a very ladylike position that, because of her short skirt, actually distracted me from all of this craziness. As nuts as these ladies were, they were still damn good to look at and right now she had a lot of leg showing. She noticed my eyes roaming and smiled, leaning in. “Up here, Protector.”

“You keep using that word…” I protested.

“Because you have a role. You’ve been chosen.”

“How so? Why me?”

“We weren’t certain,” Red chimed in. “I mean,