Free Acropolis by R.K. Ryals

hand covers mine. For once, I don't
jump.
    "You can make them an asset. They only hurt
you if you refuse to learn how to use them."
    I open my eyes and look down into Conor's
upturned face.
    "And you would know this?"
    Conor doesn't answer. He just gazes at me as
if he is trying to decipher my thoughts. I mentally withdraw. I am
not an open person. Conor frowns, his hand lifting mine.
    "I would know this," he answers.
    His hand suddenly grows hard, and I watch in
horror as it turns to stone around mine. It isn't the first time
he's done this, but I hadn't really been able to see it before. I
try pulling away, but the stone is unrelenting.
    "Power is like having an extra limb. Learn to
use it, and you are no different than anyone else. Not physically
anyway."
    I quit fighting him and lift my other hand to
touch his stone one tentatively.
    "Can you even feel that?" I ask. He
laughs.
    "Every bit of it. Feels just like it would if
you were caressing my flesh-like hand."
    I pull away quickly. It is odd and a little
embarrassing knowing he can feel me rub him. Conor's hand returns
to normal.
    "Turning to stone isn't my only ability,
Emma. It's just the most obvious. Like you, I had a lot to
learn."
    I keep staring at his hand. The
transformation is amazing. Warm and soft, cold and hard, and then
warm and soft again.
    "You can do more?"
    My eyes move to his. Our gazes lock. He
smiles.
    "How much did you want that ice cream?" he
asks.
    I am instantly confused.
    "Not much. Why?"
    A drop of water hits my nose. It startles me,
and I look up. Another drop hits my forehead, then another.
    "Conor," I whisper.
    His arms go around my waist, and he lifts me
off the counter.
    "Hold on," he says as he moves me to the
floor. "Look up."
    I did as told.
    "Oh, my God!"
    Water falls from the sky out of
nowhere. We are inside his house and it is raining. It is raining .
    "Gargoyles can control water," he whispers
against my ear.
    I am soaked in minutes.
    "H-how?"
    Conor gestures at the sink, and I look to
find water streaming from the faucet only to be pulled up into the
air before falling over our heads. The sink isn't even on. The
water is cold, but it feels good against my skin.
    "Amazing."
    I look back up at Conor only to discover his
face is entirely too close to mine. I step away, my back hitting
the edge of the island. He shakes his head.
    "You don't like to be close to people, do
you?" he asks.
    The rain stops. I don't answer him. I stand
silently instead, my hands gripping the counter until my knuckles
are white. Conor leans forward, his hands coming to rest on each
side of me on the island, his fingers sinking into a layer of
water.
    "I can't figure you out, Em. Getting inside
your head is damn difficult."
    The water around us lifts, flowing back into
the sink as if it had never existed. Even my clothes and hair are
as dry as they had been before. I keep my eyes averted.
    "There is nothing to figure out," I mumble.
Conor laughs a little.
    "Oh, I think there is. It's the quiet ones
who think the most."
    "N-n-no," I insist, looking anywhere but at
him.
    I move back as far as I can before glancing
over his shoulder, my eyes landing automatically on the French
doors. A grotesque face peers back at me, its mouth spread wide,
its grin wicked.
    My body is suddenly hot, my pulse races. I
scream.
     
     
     

Chapter 11
     
    Conor
     
    I think, when it comes right down to it, fear
is underestimated.
    "Quiet, Em!" I say urgently, my hand coming
to rest against her screaming lips.
    She is insensible, her eyes round with
horror. I know without looking there is a Demon standing on the
other side of my patio door. I don't look because I know it won't
come in alone, not into a house full of gargoyles. There are
footsteps in the hallway, more than one set, all on high alert.
    "What the hell!" a groggy Roach yells as he
slides into the room. He is in a pair of red boxers and nothing
else. Half naked, Roach is not the least bit intimidating. There's
just not