That’s what the fae intended.
Gargoyles aren’t supposed to exist. So wedon’t.
By unspoken agreement, Draegan, Auggie, Jude, and I have kept our dark secret for fifteen hundred years. Aside from Draegan’s unintentional reveal to Eloise the night she attacked West, we’ve only shown our true forms in the rarest of cases—usually, when we’re about to send a man to his grave, where hecan’treveal our secrets.
And then, to Westlyn Avery, on the first night she came to us. Draegan wanted to impress upon her just how dire her circumstances were. Just how much danger she was truly in, with no one to trust but the fierce monsters who’d taken her captive.
But, unbeknownst to my gargoyle brothers, there’s another who knows what lurks behind our human glamours.
And it’s her council I seek tonight.
“Do you ever wonder whether immortality istrulyforever?” Tatiana says when she opens her door to greet me. “Surely evenwecannot outrun time.”
I offer a small bow and a big smile, realizing just how much I’ve missed her. “That doesn’t stop us from trying.”
“Sometimes…” She draws her shawl close over her bony shoulders and holds out her hand, inspecting the network of veins and spots on the back. “Sometimes I feel as though I’m one of the great standing stones of old, Rook. Slowly eroded by the seductive kiss of an evening breeze. One night, that very breeze will carry the dust of my bones back to the stars.”
“But notthisnight, I hope.” I offer my arm and escort her back into the house.
In the mundane world, Tatiana is a renowned professor of occult studies. She used to travel around the globe to lecture and teach, but now she works primarily out of NYU. I met her over a century ago, sitting in on one of her lectures on demonic possession. She identified me as supernatural right away, cornered me after class, and demanded to know if I’d ever visited hell.
We’ve been friends ever since.
In recent years, however, she’s grown more reclusive, only lecturing for special graduate classes and even then, doing most of her work online.
It’s been over a decade since I’ve seen her in person, our communications limited to the occasional text or email puzzling out one occult theory or another, and now she looks more frail than I remember.
But the vampire-witch is even older than we are, and will almost certainly outlast us all.
In the kitchen, she puts on water for tea and sets out a plate of lemon cookies dusted with powdered sugar.
Then, gesturing for me to drop the human glamor, she settles in across from me at her small kitchen table. “Now. What brings your handsome face to my doorstep this evening, old friend?”
“Questions, Tatiana. Always questions.”
“Is that all?”
“To be perfectly honest, I could also use a stronger perimeter spell, if you’re up for it.” I pop a cookie into my mouth, the powdered sugar coating my lips. “I’m concerned mine aren’t up to the task.”
She arches a delicate silver brow. “To protect something in, or to keep something out?”
“To protect something precious that’sin, and to keep all who seek to harm that something preciousout.”
“Very well.” She’s on her feet again. “I’ll pour the tea, then we shall brew your spell and answer all your questions. But first, you must answer one of mine.”
“Anything.”
A smile twitches her lips. “What’s her name?”
I remove my glasses and polish them with one of her cloth napkins, my cheeks heating. “Sorry. Whose name?”
“Don’t be coy with me, Rook Van Doren.” She cups my jaw, peering into my face. “The woman who put the light back into those soulful brown eyes of yours. I want to knowallabout her.”
* * *
Sipping my lavender-vanilla tea, I tell Tatiana only enough to satisfy her mother-hen curiosity.
Not West’s name, or the fact that she’s essentially a fugitive in hiding from the Archmage and all the vile shadow magic bastards under his command.
