Page 48 of Dance in the Stones

Redford was conscious of Damon and Kolton following him and Simon as they entered the tower. Inside, Redford winced because the damage was still really bad. But beneath it all, Redford could feel what Simon had sensed – the magic was still there, humming with power, waiting for someone with some skills to help repair the physical side of things.

As they made their way to the third floor, Redford purposefully didn’t say anything, waiting to see if Simon could sense the hidden room. He’d missed it, and it was Damon’s hellhound senses that found it originally, but when they reached the landing, Simon stopped abruptly.

“There.” He pointed to the exact wall where Damon had found the hidden chamber. “Something’s behind there. I can feel it.”

“That’s where we found the documents,” Damon said from behind them. “A journal, letters, and a logbook. Proof of everything this place was.”

Simon pressed both palms against the wall, his eyes closing. “There’s more, so much more. Older magic of some kind... Not just Beatrice’s wards, but...” His breath hitched. “Redford, back me up here, or tell me my senses are wrong. This is gargoyle magic that was woven into the foundation probably decades or even centuries before she arrived.”

Redford didn’t need to touch the stones to confirm that, but he pressed his own hand to the wall anyway. “Yes, you can feel the resonance. It’s gargoyle protection wards.”

“I can’t believe it, after all these years being told so many times that gargoyles only looked out for themselves,” Simon whispered. “But this is a classic example of how it didn’t need to be that way. The gargoyles that built this place, made it safe for others – all others.”

“Which is one of the big reasons we’re going to restore it.” Redford met Simon’s gaze. “Not just the structure, but the original purpose behind the castle.”

“You’re talking about rebuilding the sanctuary?” Simon’s eyes were incredibly wide. “Can that be done? Can we do that?”

“We’re seriously considering it. There’s a pack alpha in Inverness who wants to discuss reopening Duncarrick officially, once the renovations are done.” Looking over his shoulder, Redford flashed his mate a smile. He could feel Damon’s pride running through him as if it was his own.

“I’ll help.” Simon turned, surveying the damage with fresh eyes. “Clearly the foundation needs to be fixed first, and then the wards. If we reinforce everything the original owners and Beatrice did and then add our own protections, we can make this tower unbreakable.”

“You can do all that, babe?” Kolton asked from the doorway, Warner still strapped to his chest. The little one had fallen asleep again.

“Not on my own, but with two gargoyles working together?” Simon glanced at Redford. “Absolutely.”

Warner started fussing again as they descended to ground level. Redford took him from Kolton, and the baby settled immediately against his shoulder.

“You’re definitely visiting regularly,” Kolton decided. “That’s not even fair.”

“Gargoyle resonance,” Simon said, but he was watching Redford with something that looked like hope. “It’s good for him, having another gargoyle around, as well as other hellhounds. I didn’t think I could have that for him.”

“I think that sort of thing is good for all of us,” Redford said quietly, as Damon came up, peering at Warner as he leaned against Redford’s side. Yep, Redford wasn’t the only one thinking about family expansion, he could tell that just by Damon’s smile and the glint in his eye.

They returned to the cottage for lunch, and Redford was helping Damon slice vegetables when JC popped into the living room. Redford was used to translocation – gargoyles could use a similar power themselves, but seeing someone just arrive still gave him a bit of a jolt.

JC was broad-shouldered and tall – like honestly, did Lord Hades never think about creating short hellhounds, but then, with the job they were meant to do, probably not. Redford had a sudden image of the Lord of the Underworld being surrounded by corgis. JC also had dark hair and striking blue eyes. Dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a bulky jacket, he carried a leather satchel.

“I’m here for the documents,” JC said by way of greeting. “Show me.”

“Hello to you too,” Damon said dryly. “JC, you know Kolton, Simon, and baby Warner already. This is Redford. Red, this is JC - our pack’s resident history obsessive.”

“Nice to meet you.” Redford offered his hand, which JC shook quickly before turning back to Damon.

“The journal. You said it was dated from 1565?”

“It’s on the kitchen table. You could at least pretend to be happy to see us.” Damon gestured with a sigh. Clearly, he didn’t see JC’s actions as unusual. “I left it all laid out for you.”

JC moved past them, already pulling on white gloves. He bent over the documents, his entire body going still in that way of someone encountering something precious.

“This is...” JC’s voice was hushed. “Damon, this is incredible. Look at this handwriting, the preservation. And the detail…” He carefully turned a page. “They documented absolutely everything. Names, dates, even the routes the survivors took. This is a complete record of a paranormal underground railroad.”

“We found it hidden in the east tower.” Redford moved to JC’s side. “Behind a wall, in a hidden chamber.”

“Of course.” JC looked up, blue eyes bright. “Sanctuary spaces always had hidden rooms. For the most vulnerable or for records like this.” He touched the journal with reverent care. “You’re going to contact the Paranormal Council?”

“We planned to,” Damon confirmed. “But we wanted pack input first, especially yours.”

“You’re thinking of reopening it, aren’t you?” JC’s gaze sharpened. “As a functioning sanctuary.”