At least, Kenzie had been uncomfortable, and now her eyes felt sandy, her muscles aching. Bowman, stretched out in the backseat because of his healing injury, had dropped off into peaceful sleep. Or at least, he’d pretended to.

Bowman hadn’t even suggested that Kenzie go home to a soft bed. She wouldn’t leave him, not when he was still hurt, and he knew it, not even if they summoned Cade or Jamie to reprieve her. And neither of them fully trusted Gil yet. So Kenzie stayed.

She called Ryan before they settled in and told him to stay with Cade, which Ryan had no problem with. He was getting to be of an age when having friends and fun was more important than clinging to his parents. He’d sounded worried though—about them, not himself. Ryan was also old enough to realize that his mom and dad did a dangerous job.

Gil proved to be a good conversationalist as the night lengthened. He was well-read and intelligent, and knew many things. Not from education, he said. He’d never been to college. He just liked to read . . . everything. He wrote a little too, he said modestly. Nothing anyone would know.

He had way too good of an attitude, Kenzie thought. Sitting up all night babysitting an oversized corpse, waiting for the vet or maybe a villain to show up, didn’t faze him. Gil had plenty of topics at the ready to discuss, but he knew when to let Kenzie doze. She awoke in the morning to find him humming a tune in his throat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He couldn’t have slept much, but he looked refreshed.

Bowman also looked rested and energetic. He swung himself out of the car at dawn as though he were healed and as supple as ever. Kenzie felt hungover and exhausted, her eyes aching, and she could murder for some coffee.

Dr. Pat arrived shortly after daybreak in a trim white SUV that went with her chirpy personality. Kenzie softened toward the woman a little when Dr. Pat leaned into the passenger side and withdrew a cardboard carrier holding four cups of steaming coffee. Good, expensive coffee, a rich roast whose scent tickled Kenzie’s nose and promised wonderful things.

The smell and taste of the coffee as Kenzie drank almost blotted out the decaying smell of the creature. But not quite. Nothing would wipe that out except time.

After they fortified themselves with coffee, the four climbed down the hill to where the creature lay. Kenzie held her breath against the stench; Dr. Pat’s eyes were streaming. The males of the group pretended to be able to stomach it, but Kenzie knew better.

“What the hell is it?” Dr. Pat asked.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Bowman said. “Take your time; I know it’s bad. If you need to go back up, that’s fine.”

Dr. Pat shook her head, and Kenzie’s estimation of her rose some more. She wasn’t a wuss, that was for sure.

When Dr. Pat took another step toward the body, her foot slipped. Two male hands quickly caught her, steadying her on the muddy ground. Dr. Pat gave both Gil and Bowman a pretty and grateful smile.

Kenzie rolled her eyes. Dear Goddess, save me from all this testosterone.

She folded her arms while Bowman and Gil helped Dr. Pat move on the slippery ground toward the creature. The woman stopped a few feet from the thing, wiped her eyes, and looked it over.

Its lower body was definitely lion, or at least Feline, but the rest was like nothing Kenzie had ever seen. The big cat body changed abruptly in the middle to something reptilian, and what looked like the remains of a feathery wing poked out of its back.

Then came the head, a mishmash of lion, wolf, and something eagle-like. Its open mouth showed rows of giant, very sharp teeth. The wide, staring eyes had filmed over, but they were protruding and red.

“Huh,” Gil said. “Don’t tell me we’ve taken down Godzilla.”

“No.” Dr. Pat lifted her hands from her mouth. She looked green and sick, but her eyes were alight with interest. “It’s not from the movies; it’s from mythology. I think this is a griffin.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bowman stared at Dr. Pat, then at the animal, then up at Kenzie, as though she would have the answer. “What the hell’s a griffin?”

Kenzie answered him, proving she did know. “A griffin is half lion, half eagle. A mythical beast with origin stories from Persia, Turkey, and Greece. Used in heraldry in Europe beginning in the middle ages.” She frowned as she studied it again. “This thing doesn’t look exactly like the pictures I’ve seen. It’s as though someone threw in a dragon on top of it.”

Dr. Pat nodded gravely. “True, but I’ve never met a mythical beast before, so I’m not going to argue with it.”

Bowman fixed Kenzie with a sharp look. “How the hell do you know all that?”

“Books,” Kenzie said without inflection. “Ryan likes fantasy.”

His brows slammed together. “Ryan reads about fantasies?”

“Fantasy,” Kenzie said, pronouncing it carefully. “As in Lord of the Rings and the Chronicles of Narnia. Ryan liked Narnia a lot when he was younger. Now he’s into the Dresden Files and the Iron Druid Chronicles.”

Bowman kept scowling as he processed the information. Kenzie raised her brows at Bowman until he turned away and resumed his study of the animal.

Gil had taken out his cell phone to snap pictures. “Cool. A real live mythological beast that shouldn’t exist.”

“But it does exist,” Bowman said, his voice going quiet. “The questions are how? And why?”

“And who created it?” Kenzie asked, her voice also controlled. “This didn’t spring up naturally.”