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SEVENTEEN
When Tacey led a yawning Rory out to the car in the pre-dawn darkness, he was already waiting for her. For a moment, she thought he'd forgotten about the pants, until she realised he hadn't, but...
"Where on Earth did you find those?"
Wystan glanced down. "They were in the attic, just like you said. They seemed the sturdiest ones there."
Well, sure, leather was sturdy, but it also clung to every muscle and...everything else, too. She could see his cock so clearly, he might as well not be wearing any pants at all.
"And I take it gargoyles don't do shirts?" she asked, trying not to look at the muscles above the pants. This dude was definitely ripped.
He shrugged. "A shirt would foul my wings, so that I could not fly behind your carriage to the café."
A shirt would...what?
"You are absolutely not following me in the air to the café. A police chopper, lights and all, would be less noticeable. You can come in the car, or not at all."
Rory tugged her hand out of Tacey's and reached for Wystan's instead. "You can sit with me in the back seat."
Only Rory could possibly befriend a monster this fast. And when he seemed unfamiliar with seat belts, she helped him with that, too.
It was kindness and innocence like hers that predatory monsters took advantage of, not caring who they hurt or how much. Tacey closed her eyes. This was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake that she was going to regret...
"We are securely fastened into our seats, Tacey. We can depart," Wystan said.
Tacey blew out a breath. She couldn't say it in front of Rory, but when they got to the café, she was going to take Wystan aside and tell him in no uncertain terms that the deal was off. She'd find an ordinary way to deal with this mess, without any sort of paranormal assistance. Well-endowed or otherwise.
The drive to the café took almost no time at all. Damn non-existent early morning traffic.
Tacey unlocked the door and led the way in, flicking the lights on as she went. She glanced at the stairs, debating.
"Can I go and sit on Auntie Octavia's sofa upstairs, Mummy?" Rory asked.
Not if Octavia had been up all night on her computer and had fallen asleep up there. "Sweetheart, Auntie Octavia might still be asleep..." Tacey began.
Wystan shook his head. "We are the only people in the building. There is no one upstairs."
Rory held out her hand. "Come on, Mr Monster. I have colouring to do before breakfast, and you can help."
Tacey frowned. "You go on up and unpack your things. I need to talk to Mr Steel for a minute first."
Rory rolled her eyes. "Ooookaaaay," she huffed as she lugged her satchel of art supplies up the stairs.
The moment Rory was out of earshot, Tacey turned to the gargoyle. "If you hurt her, or say or do anything that causes her the slightest bit of discomfort, I will boot you back out those doors so fast, you won't know what hit you."
"No harm will come to your daughter while I am her protector. I swear it," Wystan said.
She wanted to believe him. She really did. It was just...this massive man, with the wings and...
Hadn't Matt said something about seeing her talking to a man in a Moth Man suit? Well, someone he'd thought was her, anyway. Which meant he'd been watching the café somehow. Either spying on her from outside or...
Tacey scanned the ceiling. The baleful red eye of a security camera she'd never noticed before stared at her from the corner behind the espresso machine.
"That will have to go," she muttered.
A moment later, Wystan leaped into the air, enormous wings flapping to keep him aloft, as his meaty fist smashed the camera right off the wall. Pieces of glass, plastic and electrical innards rained down on the tiles. She half expected to see sparking wiring dangling from the ceiling, but there was nothing but a dent in the plaster to show the camera had ever been up there.
She grabbed the dustpan and brush and shoved it into Wystan's hands. "You made the mess, you can clean it up. Then you can go up and keep an eye on Rory. I need to start baking."
