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I told them the story about the tiger shifter neighbor who had helped me control my paws when I was little, and the nickname I got because of it. Then I looked sadly at the shredded magazine. “I guess the claws still come out when I’m upset.”
“Hey, I’d be upset too!” Tansy said. “But I’d probably set the stupid thing on fire.”
That had me chuckling, happy that I’d found these two. Meeting Gunnar that evening had been a stroke of good luck. I just hoped the luck would keep holding up.
Chapter 26
Gunnar
Istoodstockstillnext to the temporary display at the Darlington Museum. The priceless artifact, on display for one day only, was a piece of the city’s history. The massive gold nugget had been what had drawn Desmon to the area centuries ago, and he had since kept it hidden in his hoard, bringing it out for just one day every year for Darlington’s birthday.
The thing was enormous, and unlike the other similarly sized world-famous nugget, theWelcome Stranger, Darlington’sGolden Beautyhad not been melted down and turned into ingots. Desmon liked to keep his treasures in their original shape if at all possible.
It had been while I was protecting this giant nugget from the covetous claw of another dragon that I had ended up befriending the dragon of Darlington. Defeating the numerous thieves sent for the priceless piece of gold had been good fun, especially since, unlike when I worked for the EA and the police, I didn’t need to keep them alive. There’d been plenty of magical dragon fire to get rid of all the evidence and absolutely no paperwork to deal with after.
Ah. Simpler days.
Currently, the legendary gold nugget was sitting inside a shatterproof glass display, and on either side of it was a guard. I was one of them. The other was a manticore, his scorpion tail slowly swishing from side to side as he eyed the people admiring the gold.
As per Desmon’s request, we were both in our natural forms, since fear deterred theft the best. A fancy purple velvet rope separated us from the droves of people coming in to see the not-so-little piece of history.
Since I was the motionless one, looking very much like a statue, people in the crowd were getting a lot closer to my end of the velvet rope than Mateo’s, including two kids whose mother was busy talking to her friend. Without moving, I eyed the two children as they came extra close to take pictures with the “ugly monster,” as they called me.
It wasn’t the name that irked me; it was the fact that the two spoiled brats already had their own smart devices to take photos of each other with. It almost felt as if children these days came out of the womb holding a phone.
They climbed on top of the bench in front of me and posed. Then they jumped to the ground, pushing people out of their way. The boy crashed into a man holding a thermos, and the contents, coffee from the smell of it, splashed all over his shirt. The man grumbled something under his breath about absent parents and gave the two a wider berth. When they’d had enough of taking pictures and being a nuisance to everyone around them in general, the girl dared her younger brother to “go touch the creepy monster.”
Moving nothing but my eyes, I exchanged a look with Mateo, and we both directed a glare at the mother, who was still far too busy chit-chatting with her friend to notice her crotch goblins werethisclose to going under the velvet rope to “touch the monster.” She also hadn’t cared that the kids were treating the bench like their personal playground.
“It’s just a statue!” the little boy protested. “And we’re not supposed to go over the line.”
The linebeing the velvet rope.
“You’re just scared,” his older sister taunted.
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh yeah? Then prove it. Go touch him.”
“Fine. But then, I’ll win. And you’ll be a loser.”
I knew these were only children, but it brought back memories of the early days when gargoyles were considered nothing more than monsters who guarded the abodes of evil wizards and other powerful men. Even the ones atop the cathedrals and churches were things of horror.
The kid ducked underneath the velvet rope. Even then I didn’t move, though I could see Mateo’s tail twitching harder. When the boy got close enough to the case holding the gold that no one could deny he’d trespassed, I made my move, grabbing him by the shirt.
“Boo!”
He froze for a silent moment before letting out a shrill shriek that had everyone in the room looking our way. The girl turned, all set to flee the scene of the crime, abandoning her brother. Charming girl.
“Whose child is this?” I asked, my eyes on the mother. “Looks like I caught me a little thief.”
The woman’s wide-eyed look was one of horror. But the horror wasn’t because of her kids triggering the gargoyle alarm. It was because of me.
“Oh my God!” she cried. “The monster’s got my babies!”
Oh, great. The hysterics better not start. What did she think I was going to do, eat them? And they were far from babies. Babies didn’t climb benches with clear “Do Not Climb” signs on them.
And besides, even if I did eat babies…which I didn’t…these ones didn’t look particularly tasty.
