Taryn's Hunt: A Gryphon's Story

By Chrys Cymri

Can a human really be any good as a police officer?

Inspector Taryn is proud of her record in the city's police service. She might be small for a gryphon, but even the most hardened criminals have learned to fear her abilities.

Now her Superintendent has given her a human male as a partner. Can Peter prove himself worthy as they investigate a series of suspicious deaths?

Taryn and Peter are characters in the urban fantasy 'Penny White' series. This is how they first met.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chrys Cymri
• Release date: Dec 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463338339

Chrys Cymri

Priest by day, writer at odd times of the day and night, I live with a small green parrot called Tilly because the upkeep for a dragon is beyond my current budget. Plus I’m responsible for making good any flame damage to church property. I love ‘Doctor Who’, landscape photography, single malt whisky, and my job, in no particular order. When I’m not looking after a small parish church in the Midlands (England) I like to go on far flung adventures to places like Peru, New Zealand, and North Korea.

Book preview

Taryn’s Hunt

A Gryphon’s Story

From the magical world of Penny White

By Chrys Cymri

Copyright 2018 Chrys Cymri

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Cover Design: Oliviaprodesign on Fiverr

In memory of Lola

16 April 1989 to 30 June 2017

This is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, businesses,

places, events and incidents are either the

products of the author’s imagination

or used in a fictitious manner and any resemblance

to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events

is purely coincidental.

The vampire raised himself to his full height and glared down at Taryn. ‘Chi, fy arestio?’ Then he switched from Welsh to English. ‘You’re no larger than a cat. Not even worth the effort of draining the blood from your body.’

Taryn felt her tail lash at the floor. ‘You should never judge a police officer by their size. Particularly if she’s a gryphon.’

‘Well, that one didn’t last long.’ The vampire pointed a thin finger at the black and tan body lying near the warehouse door. The small gryphon’s black falcon head was twisted, and the tiger-striped hindlegs splayed across the dirty floor. ‘One quick punch, and he’s out of action. Permanently, I hope.’

‘Goronwy is a rookie,’ Taryn said. ‘You’ll find me much harder to hit.’ And she deliberately turned her head to preen where grey feathers met cheetah-spotted fur.

The vampire laughed. ‘You can have a go, little bird. Maybe I’ll suck you dry after all. I could use a snack.’

Taryn gathered her legs under her body. The talons of her falcon forefeet extended, scraping against flagstones. Late afternoon sun slanted through the broken windows high above their heads, touching the wooden equipment which littered the ground. She had already taken stock of the broken pieces, and decided against using any of them against the vampire. Experience had taught her that teeth and claws were the most reliable weapons. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘So I can fill out the arrest sheet when you can’t speak.’

‘Derog Arth.’ He laughed. ‘Even if you did capture me, I wouldn’t be in jail for very long. I have friends in low places.’

Taryn wondered what he meant by that. Perhaps he would explain once he was in a cell. But first there was the small matter of the arrest. She swept her gaze over Derog. He was naked, of course, as he’d flown into the warehouse in bat shape. She briefly considered attacking his genitals, but decided that that was beneath her. As he lifted a hand to sweep long black hair away from his pale face, she had an idea. ‘Low? I’m not surprised.’

‘And they’re very powerful--’

Mud flew away from Taryn’s feet as she launched herself into the warm air. Her narrow wings, designed for speed, sliced through dust and sunlight. Only hummingbird gryphons could outfly a falcon-cheetah. Derog threw up his arms, but she easily ducked around his flailing fists and drew her sharp beak across his high forehead.

The vampire shouted out curses. His right arm caught the trailing edge of Taryn’s left wing. Feathers fouled, she spun towards a shattered worktable. Jagged ends of wood filled her vision, and she pounded her right wing. Her thin tail spun wildly, but was little use as a brake.

A black blur cut across her sight. Goronwy was smaller than she was, but the impact of his body still knocked the air from her lungs. More importantly, they both fell to a bare patch of floor, well away from lethal splinters.

As they had so often practiced, they rolled away from each other as they hit the ground. Taryn felt paws jar against stone and knew that she would be limping for several hours. But nothing broke, and she was back on her feet a moment later, snarling at the vampire.

As she had hoped, the free-flowing blood was streaming into his dark eyes. Derog wiped at the bright liquid, streaking his arms with red. ‘Net!’ Taryn snapped at Goronwy. ‘Now!’

Her partner glanced at her, panting heavily. His left foreleg hung limply at his side, and his tail was curled against his flanks. But he extended black wings and flew to the door. Taryn followed a moment later, landing beside him to gather a rope handle into her claws.

They lifted the net into the air. Derog lifted his head, his hands still trying frantically to clear his vision. Although the net would contain someone human-sized, there were several large gaps between the strands. The vampire flashed them a grin, long canine teeth shining against his dark lips. Then he shifted into bat shape as the ropes draped over his body.

Taryn whistled a sharp command at Goronwy. They pulled away from each other, straining against the handles. As the bat flew upwards, the gaps narrowed. The net tightened around Derog. The vampire shrieked as his wings caught in the fibres. Slowly, carefully, the two gryphons lowered the ball of rope to the ground.

‘Yes,’ Taryn told Derog, ‘that was our plan all along. A bat is far easier to transport than a biped. Derog Arth, I arrest you for the crimes of extortion, drug running, and grievous bodily harm. You will be taken to the nearest police station, where you will be told your rights and given the opportunity to consult a unicorn to represent your interests.’

The bat hissed in return, followed by disparaging comments about Taryn’s matriarch. She had heard worse insults, so feathers and fur remained unruffled as she bent her head to Goronwy. ‘Go out and whistle down a rat. We’ll need assistance to move Derog. And you need to go to the medic.’

‘I’m fine,’ Goronwy insisted, foreleg not touching the ground.

‘Medic,’ Taryn said firmly. ‘Go. We need transport.’

Her partner grumbled, but extended his wings and flew out of an upper window. Taryn checked the tightness of the net and, satisfied that Derog was thoroughly entangled, concentrated on preening her left wing. Then she looked around. ‘Are you thirsty? Would you like me to find you some water?’

The vampire’s curses were interrupted by a crash. The wooden door to the warehouse slammed open. A green-black dragon strode through the entrance, ducking his narrow head under the entrance. The elf on his neck spluttered, brushing cobwebs away from his pointed ears.

Taryn dipped her head in greeting. ‘Vigdis. Good to see you again.’

‘It was a good break, but it’s great to be back in action,’ the dragon replied. He angled ears and horns at the net. ‘What am I taking away?’

‘Derog Arth, vampire. Uninjured. Well, his pride is bent.’

Vigdis snorted. ‘The usual thing about size? You’d think the word was out by now. Never judge a police officer by her size.’

‘Exactly,’ said the dragon’s rider. ‘I'm more than just a pair of hands, you know.’

The dragon laughed. ‘You certainly are, Sergeant Wren. But right now, hands is what I need. Could you dismount and check on Mr Arth? We’ll need to ready him for transport.’

The elf slid from his perch. As the police officer brushed past, Taryn dropped her beak open into a grin. ‘Looks like you two have settled in well.’

‘Better than I could have hoped.’ The dragon sighed. ‘Jaqxon was a wonderful partner. It took awhile to come to terms with carrying someone else on my neck.’

‘My sorrow for your sorrow.’ Taryn reached out to touch the red-rimmed nostrils with one forefoot. ‘It’s understandable. After all, we only cremated Jaqxon two months ago. Have his killers been found?’

‘Not yet.’ Lips drew