Page 46 of Fated to the Gargoyle

She drops into the driver’s seat. “I’ll pack up some things tonight. And while y’all are resting tomorrow, I’m ordering us some furniture from Cozy Corner.”

She shuts the door and starts the engine. I watch her taillights all the way down the row.

Sable waits until she turns out of the lot. Then he groans and snatches the pants from my hand.

“We have worn garments before, brother. In the old country. I burned mine.”

“You will not burn these. My mate made them with her own hands.”

He mutters something in the old tongue. Then he steps into them and drops his loincloth with the face of a warrior taking a wound. “For my sister.”

He says it with a smile, so I leave the groaning alone.

“She is very happy with you,” he says, working the waist into place. “I am glad for you, brother. Truly.”

I glance back down the road. “She loves the land. She wants to use the treasure to make the cabin a home. Curtains, furniture, pictures on the walls.”

“It is hers to do with as she pleases.” His wings settle behind him. “I will not ask after your watch today. A new-mated male keeps to his mate.”

I stop smiling anyway. “Dawn caught me at the cabin, brother. I watched nothing but her.” I hold his eyes.

“No one faults you. My watch was quiet. But strange. The sheriff of Shadow Wolf Creek finally came by to take a statement on what was stolen.” He pauses. “Cleaning solution.”

“Cleaning solution.” I frown at him. “That is very odd.”

“Indeed.” His wings shift behind him. “There is more. A scent ran through that solution, all over the facility. When the sun set and my stone let go, I went inside to be certain.” He lowers his voice. “The scent is close to our Settling, Soren.”

My wings pull tight. “What?”

He nods once. “Witchcraft. There is no doubt left in me.”

“Then why circle Stanley’s?” I ask it half to myself. “There is nothing in that diner worth a witch’s trouble. Nothing but⁠⁠—”

One thing in this town reads red where every living human reads gold.

“Treasure,” I say.

Sable is still talking when my wings snap open. I launch, and the parked cars rock in my wake. My brother is right behind me.

I have been drunk on my mate for days, and I let the one duty I was built for slip.

I fly harder than I have flown since the ocean. Her block comes up fast, and the wind off it carries a scent I know from the old country, a human gone dry. Ghoul.

I land on her roof. Sable comes down beside me without a sound, and we listen.

“We cannot kill him,” Sable says, low. “Jalen asked for the dragon’s call, not a corpse.”

I turn and stare at my brother. That thing has been circling my mate, my reason for standing. And I am meant to hand it mercy.

I do not think so.

“Consider our home.” Sable doesn’t move.

My claws bite into the roof edge. Below us, her headlights swing into the lot, and her car settles into its space. We hold to the dark and listen harder.

“He is inside her apartment,” Sable breathes.

Nothing in that apartment moves at all.