Page 50

"That’s normal," Teagan says, giving me another reassuring squeeze before returning his grip to the wheel as he turns down a narrow, side street lined with old-fashioned brick storefronts. "Whatever happens in there, Ryker, you aren't alone. I'm here with you, love."

I glance over at him, thankful that he’s in my life. "I know," I whisper. "Thank you, Teagan."

Teagan eases the car to a smooth stop along the curb in front of a two-story red brick building. Soft gold light spills out from a large bay window onto the sidewalk. Golden, hand-painted lettering across the glass reads: Gray Brothers & Co.

My pulse spikes. Gray. The name doesn't necessarily spark a memory, but a strange, warm phantom vibration echoes through my body, right at shoulder blades where my wings start.

We step out of the car, the crip air hitting my cheeks. My long tail twitches with a mix of nervous energy as Teagan walks around the car to stand by my side. He wraps his hand around mine, offering a confident smile. I know he’s doing it for me, and monster gods, it’s nice to have someone in my corner for once.

"Ready?" he asks softly.

"Ready.”

I reach out, pushing open the door. A bell chimes overhead, casting us into an environment that instantly assaults my senses. It’s overwhelming, intimate, and something familiar.

The air smells rich with steamed wool, cedar wood, and something floral. Bolt upon bolt of high-grade cloth, and silks line shelves stretching to the ceiling. Antique shears rest on a nearby cutting table.

My body moves before my brain can process it. My fingers reach out on pure muscle memory, trailing over a bolt of wool. My body seems to remember the exact material without me even trying.

"Can I help you?" A voice cuts through the room from behind a register near the back. The figure steps out into the soft golden lamp glow.

I gasp.

Standing there is a tall gargoyle. His skin is the exact same shade of deep, rich violet as mine. His shoulders are broad, his wings neatly tucked against his back, and his eyes—monster gods, his eyes—are a striking brilliant cerulean blue. They’re so similar to the ones I look at every morning in the bathroom mirror.

He wears a dark green tailored vest over a white button-down with rolled-up sleeves, a tape measure draped loosely around his neck. He’s muscular, but not quite as defined as me. He freezes. Something clatters to the floor.

His eyes widen as he stares at me. His chest heaves, and his long tail sweeps frantically behind him. "Can I help you?" he whispers again, his voice cracking.

"Julian?" Teagan steps forward gently, his voice soft and non-threatening. "Are you Julian Gray?"

The gargoyle's eyes dart to Teagan for a fraction of a second before locking back onto my face.

"I don't know who you are," I say honestly, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. "I... I lost my memories ten years ago. I didn't know who I was, or where I belonged. But..." I look around the workshop, my throat tightening. "My heart feels like it knows this place. My hands know how to sew. And you feel familiar."

Julian’s face transforms. Tears instantly pool in those bright blue eyes, spilling over his purple granite-like cheeks. He stumbles around the edge of the cutting table, his broad legs moving faster until he’s practically sprinting across the floor.

"Ryker?" he chokes out.

Before I can answer, Julian throws his arms around my neck, pulling me into a ferocious, wing-wrapping hug. The impact knocks a small gasp from my lungs, but instinctively, my arms curl around his waist, my large wings unfurling slightly to envelop him in return.

He's crying heavily against my shoulder, his broad chest shuddering with deep sobs.

"It's you, oh gods, it's really you," Julian sobs, his claws digging into the fabric of my coat. "Ten years... ten fucking years, Ryker! I thought you were dead!"

A gasp rips from my throat. I stand there, wrapping my brother tight in my arms. I don't remember his childhood laugh, or the sound of his voice calling my name, but holding him now, a strange sense of peace settles deep in my chest. The hollow, empty void inside my heart that has lingered for a decade suddenly fills with warmth.

After several long minutes, Julian pulls back, wiping his wet face with the back of his forearm. He laughs and shakes his head, looking me up and down. "Fucking hell. Look at you," Julian laughs. He squeezes my purple arm, then my shoulder, as if verifying I'm real. "You shifted into a gargoyle, too. Exactly like me."

"I... I don't remember changing," I admit quietly, looking down at my hands. "Or anything before waking up on a bench ten years ago."

"It’s okay. Come over here," Julian says urgently, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward a desk in the back corner. "Let me grab something. Wait right here."

Teagan walks up beside me, slipping his arm around my waist and pressing a kiss to my cheek. I look down at him, my heart overflowing with love. "Thank you," I whisper to him rubbing a palm over my heart.

"I told you we'd find him," Teagan smiles up at me, his eyes shiny with happy tears. Julian returns, holding a framed photograph.

With trembling hands, he turns it toward me.