Page 16 of Fated to the Gargoyle

The mortar goes to powder under my grip. She’s answered this man plainly every time he’s asked, and he keeps hearing a game.

I take the brick to the roof and settle at the edge above the door. I’m going to learn where this human named Lamar lives, and I’m going to give him one warning to leave my mate alone. That’s more mercy than my kind ever got.

I’m supposed to find Sable tonight so we can walk this town openly and see how it answers us, but my brother can wait. Nothing matters more than Treasure right now, and I let myself pretend that only holds until closing.

Andy leaves first, muttering his way across the lot with his jacket held over his head, and the dishwasher follows with lighter steps than he carried yesterday. I’d bet my wings on the reason. She talked that boy through his panic, and if there were any justice in this town, she’d be running that diner instead of closing it.

Then the lights go down inside, the bell jingles, and my mate walks out into the rain with the cook. She stops dead in front of the empty spot beside the door where I spent my whole day.

“Okay,” she announces to the empty shopping center, “someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on!”

Lamar pulls his hood up against the rain. “What are you talking about?”

“The statue.” She points at the wet pavement where my shoulders were. “The gargoyle statue was sitting right here by the door. You stood next to it with me this afternoon and told me it’s always been there.”

“Did I?” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t remember saying that. Nothing was here, Treasure.”

“You are trying to make it out like I’m crazy, and I’m not.”

“Hey, I think you’re a really cool chick.” He puts both hands up. “But I hate to break it to you. Nothing was there.”

“And what about the roof?”

He looks up, and I flatten behind the chimney. “What about it?”

She doesn’t answer him. The rain ticks off her braids while she stares him down, and he shifts his weight under it.

“Look.” His voice drops into something gentler, which is worse. “Maybe you’ve been watching too much anime or something. We don’t have gargoyles in Shadow Wolf Creek. Your occasional shifter, sure. Vampire. Sometimes merfolk, and witches and warlocks like to visit. But gargoyles?”

“Oh, okay.” She crosses her arms. “Wolves, vampires, and merfolk, that’s just a regular Wednesday around here. But gargoyles are the mystery. What gives, Lamar?”

I grin into the rain behind the chimney. Sarcasm looks good on my mate.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He fishes his keys out of his pocket. “Or how about this. Maybe not every mythical creature is real. I think the cleaning chemicals got to you tonight. Go home, Treasure. You want me to walk you to your car?”

“I’m gonna find out what the hell is going on in this town.” She backs away from him toward her car. “I’m not crazy. Y’all are.”

He sighs like she’s the one being unreasonable and walks off through the rain to his truck. There’s a certain voice men use on women they’ve decided are silly, and the cook just used it on the only human in this blind town seeing things exactly as they are.

His truck pulls out, and she stomps to her car with her apron held over her head. Even through the rain and the slammed door, her voice reaches me. “I’m not crazy. I know I’m not crazy. What is happening in this town?”

The words pull the smile right off my face. The Settling covers me while she holds the truth alone, and every night I stay hidden, Lamar calls my mate a liar on my behalf.

I could end it, drop into her headlights and let her be right in front of him. But what would I be showing her, a ghoulish face and a wet loincloth, with nothing else to my name? My mate needs more reason to love this than proof she was right about a statue. Not yet.

She pulls out of the lot, and I turn my eyes to the road the cook’s truck took.

“What did I miss?” Sable asks, landing at my wingtip. “Why is the woman frustrated?”

Her taillights climb the mountain road, and I give him nothing.

“Are the humans in fear of us?”

“No.” Her car disappears around the shoulder of the ridge, and somewhere ahead of it is a truck I’ve already scented. “I won’t feed on fish tonight. I prefer something else.”

I’m off my haunches when my brother’s palm lands flat on my chest.

“If we’re considering this land as our home,” Sable says, “I think it best we not hunt a human. Besides, we don’t feed on them, and you know it.”