Page 17

“Gargoyle.”

“Whatever!”

His smile widens.

And I hate how attractive it makes him. I really do.

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I have approximately seven thousand questions.”

“I imagine you do.”

“Starting with what the actual hell are you?”

He opens his mouth. Then stops. His expression changes. The smile disappears. He looks down at his hand, flexes his fingers. I follow his gaze.

At first, I don’t see anything unusual. Then the color begins to change. His fingertips turn gray. The gray spreads over his knuckles. And his skin… his skin hardens.

“Oh, no.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenches. “Not yet.” His voice is different now. Strained.

He tries to flex his fingers again, but they’re already stiffening.

“What is happening?”

He doesn’t answer. The gray spreads up his arm. His shoulders draw back.

“Gabriel?”

He looks at me.

And for the first time since he appeared, there’s something in his eyes that makes my chest hurt. Fear. Not of me. Not of what I might do. Of what’s happening to him.

“Please,” he says. The word is barely audible.

I take a step toward him.

“What do I do?”

He reaches for me. His fingers brush mine. For one fleeting second, the gray retreats. His skin warms. His eyes widen.

Then his hand slips away. And the transformation takes him. His body twists. His wings emerge. His handsome face contorts into the hideous features I’ve spent the last week teasing.

I stumble backward. There’s a grinding sound. A rush of cold air.

And then… Rocky is back. Perched on the railing. Exactly where he’s always been.

I stand there. Staring. My heart pounds. My mouth is dry. For a long moment, I can’t move.

Then I whisper, “Gabriel?”

Nothing. I take a tentative step closer.

“Gabriel?”

The gargoyle doesn’t move.

I look at his face. His ugly, awful, strangely familiar face. And something inside me twists. Because now I know. There’s a man in there. A real man. And he looked terrified when he turned back into stone.