Larissa blew out a slow breath. “I don’t know what to think about this.”
“Why not?”
“We’re different species. You’re not even human!”
“Humans and gargoyles have coexisted for years. And you’re not just a human.”
She opened her mouth, raised her hand, and then dropped it. “Go on.”
“And some have mated.”
She blinked. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.” She rubbed her eyes. “Mated? What the fuck have I stumbled into—?”
“It means committing to another for life.”
“I know what mating means.” She circled her temples with her fingers. In a flustered manner, she added, “No, wait. Clearly I don’t.” She dropped her hands in resignation. “This is so—I don’t know what words I’m looking for.”
“Strange? Unexpected?”
“Yes! Both of those.”
Roman still had a long way to go in reaching her. “Sure, we have many differences. But don’t overlook the similarities.”
Larissa straightened and eyed him with a skeptical glance. “Like what?”
“You’re a cop. You try to protect others, no? Like your friend, the one you take care of.”
“Of course.”
“Maybe you even put your life on the line to do so, even for strangers.”
She raised her hands and dropped them. “It’s part of my job.”
“That’s part of my being.”
She blinked rapidly. “Okay. I can kind of see that. That’s one thing.”
“It’s everything. Indicative of my kind. Part of what makes us what we are.”
“Protecting others?”
“Yes.”
Larissa resumed pacing. “I still don’t know what to make of all this. I mean, you can change into another form. You can—fly!”
“And I’m guessing you have some abilities as a witch that make you even more extraordinary.”
She shifted with visible discomfort, but for a brief moment a vulnerable glint in her eyes made him think they connected on a deeper level. “What can you do, Larissa?”
“Nothing,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Forget it.”
“I’ve shown you my secret.” He moved closer to her. “Why don’t you show me yours?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not going to show you anything.”
“Too bad. I liked what I saw earlier. It made me want to see more.”
“You saw me naked earlier.” She raised her brows and changed the tone of the conversation. “All my secrets exposed.”
“No, that’s not what I mean and you know it. You’re hiding something—I see it in your eyes. You can tell me.”
She crossed her arms, giving nothing away. A heartbeat later, she turned pale, with wide eyes. Her features froze, etched with clear terror.
“What is it?”
Her hand dropped to her necklace, a silver owl, and she clutched it. “Oh my God. I know why now.”
What was she talking about? “Know what?”
“It’s Janie.” Her eyes appeared wide and unfocused. “She’s in trouble.”
He blinked, trying to follow the abrupt change in conversation. “How do you know?”
Her face contorted with frustration. “I just do.” She grabbed his arm. “I need to get to her.” Her gaze met his. “Come with me?”
Her beseeching look left him without words. The tug in her voice, much softer than usual, and her asking for help meant she started to trust him. With her, that had to be a monumental achievement, especially after her shock at discovering his true nature moments before. He nodded to acknowledge her, and let her lead the way.
They ran downstairs and out of the club. At the end of the block, Larissa stopped. She sent a quick text, presumably to Janie. Closing her eyes, she raised her hands to her temples. “They’re at the hotel.”
They set into motion again, running through the few groups of drunken twenty-somethings or couples still left out. She stopped and said, “We’ll never make it in time. Can you—” She flicked her wrist and said, “—fly there and check on her?”
His chest filled with pride as his protective instincts flared. She trusted him to check on someone she cared about. He wouldn’t let her down. “Of course.”
“I’ll meet you there.” She handed him the room key. “Please help her. She’s in trouble.”
He stared at the key card before giving her a determined look. “Like hell I’m going to leave you here.” He reached around her waist, pulling her close. “I’m taking you with me.”
Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t argue.
“I need to shift to fly,” he warned her. “Don’t be frightened by my appearance.”
He glanced around to find concealment. He had to hide if she was able to see him.
“Come.” He motioned her into an alley and behind a dumpster to initiate the change. “Keep hold of my hand.” While his body reshaped and hardened, she watched him, never once blinking. He expected horror to shine in her eyes as he shifted into his gargoyle form, one with grotesque, exaggerated features, clawed feet, and pointed horns. Even though she’d already seen him in this form, watching the actual transformation from human to gargoyle would be a new shock. What he saw surprised him. Gratitude.
“Thank you.” Her voice was barely audible.
She didn’t recoil. Although that didn’t mean she accepted what he was—she’d moved on this far because she needed his help. Even so, warm, vivid sensations heated him from the inside, like the ripples of energy that roared through him before he changed. But it was different, stirring an unfamiliar emotional response.
“You ready?”
She scanned the area. “Wait, won’t people see us?”
“I’m going to mask us so we can fly unseen.”
She furrowed her brow, but stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around the toughened skin on his neck. “Okay, let’s go.”
* * * * *
Larissa clung to him with a tense grip as they soared above downtown Boston.
“I have you,” he reassured her. “Trust me, I won’t let you go.”
“Trust doesn’t come easy.” She searched his face before replying, “But I believe you won’t.”
She alternated between focusing on his face and marveling at the night skyline as they flew, avoiding looking down.
“Flying is quite enthralling,” he said, wishing he were introducing her to the exhilarating experience, not rushing to confront a potential threat.
“It’s definitely an experience.” She forced a half smile.
After a few moments, she loosened her claw-like grip and peeked out as they soared above the Boston Public Gardens. “Oh my God, this is so strange. Everything seems tiny. Peaceful.”
They reached the hotel far more quickly by flight than they would have on foot, or even by cab, with all the traffic signals. Roman remained behind to shift into human form while Larissa ran for the stairwell as she’d done earlier, only this time for different reasons. He caught up with her as she reached her room, the same one he’d gone to with her twice that night, details he wouldn’t forget. They exchanged a quick glance, but neither spoke.
She knocked on the door when she reached it. “Janie, it’s me. I’m coming in.”
Although she appeared to try to keep her voice even, he caught the worried edge in her tone. She opened the door and he followed her into the room.
“No one’s here,” she said. She threw open the bathroom door, which revealed nothing. “Where the fuck are they?” She raised her arms and dropped them to her sides.
“How did you know they were here?”
“I sense things before they happen.”
“And what did you sense?”
“That Janie is in danger. Here at the hotel.”
“In the future? Or do you think it’s happened already?”
Pacing in between the beds, she said, “I don’t know. I never know!”
She pulled out her phone, and after a quick glance at her text messages, she put it away with a frustrated look. When she closed her eyes, he kept his questions to himself. She was searching for something, but what?
“It’s just like before.”
When she reopened her eyes, the terrified glint sent a punch straight to his gut. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but didn’t know how.
After raising a hand to her face and then dropping it, he asked, “What happened?”
“The bombings at the Boston Marathon. We were there.”
Different pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. “You sensed something bad was about to happen that day?”
“Yes. But I couldn’t stop it.” A haunted expression came over her, encapsulating her entire body as she sagged with grief. “People died. So many hurt. The cries, the voices, the smell—I’ll never forget them.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Precognition was a powerful ability, but it clearly terrified her. She fought against it.
“Don’t let the fear win out.” He grabbed her upper arms. “Look at me.” When she opened her eyes, he said, “You have a gift that not many have.”
“How is it a gift if it torments me with what I can’t stop?”
“You need to work with it,” he said in a gentler tone.
“Ugh.” She tore her gaze from him with clear frustration. “I can’t. Not right now, when I know she’s in trouble. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“You can, Larissa.” He gazed into her eyes. “It’s inside you. I know it’s there and you can break through.” Her eyes were filled with doubt as she returned the look. “Believe it to be true,” he added.
“No. I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’m a cop, not a witch.”
“You’re both,” he said. “I know you can do this.”
She paused for several long moments, lost in another time or place. When she searched his eyes, doubt flickered amid the determination. “I have to try for Janie. What do I do?”
At least she was willing to work on it.
“Go deep inside yourself. And search for the answer.”
After a prolonged glance, she straightened with a determined expression. “All right. I’ll try.”
“That’s my girl,” he said.
She responded with an odd look. Why had he said that? Something about it had felt right, but she’d made it clear from the beginning this was a one-night thing. He shouldn’t say things like that.
For several moments, she kept her eyes shut and didn’t move. While he watched her concentrate, he questioned whether it was wrong to fill her with false hope. What if she couldn’t work with her gift?
What she must go through—knowing others were in danger, but being unable to prevent it—that would torment him. It would pierce his essence as a gargoyle to be unable to protect those entrusted to his watch. Gargoyles had safeguarded humans for centuries. They were too fragile and volatile to take care of themselves.
Ever so slightly, he caught her movement. She was swaying. Her lips moved, barely, but forming undiscernible words. Her face was now serene, her eyelids relaxed. An urge to touch her soft cheeks came over him, to kiss her satin lips. Only it had nothing to do with the urgent lust earlier. If he could touch her, comfort her, kiss her so her troubles would melt away…
“She’s on the fourth floor.” Larissa’s eyes shot open. “I don’t know which room.”
Her revelation spurred him into action. “Come on.”
Neither spoke as they rushed down the stairs to the lower level, their hurried steps echoing as they pounded the metal treads. She slowed as she passed each door. In front of room 413, she stopped. “This is it.” She banged on the door. “Janie, it’s me.” After waiting for a few moments for a reply and getting none, she pounded harder. “Open up.”
She pulled out her phone.
“Who are you calling?” Tentacles of wariness crept up his spine. Something in that room was dangerous. A dark presence. His limbs tightened, ready to take action.
“Desk clerk. To let us in.”
“There’s no time.” He stepped to the door and sniffed. A foul odor greeted him, confirming his suspicions.
With an astonished expression, she said, “What? How?”
With his strength, Roman could kick the door in, but the noise would be sure to draw unwanted attention. If he forced enough stress on the lock, it wouldn’t be as loud. He turned the handle, pushing down. At first it wouldn’t give, but as he applied more pressure, the steel gave way. In a few more seconds, he’d broken through and pushed the door in.
CHAPTER NINE
What the fuck was going on? The way Roman was forcing the door open wasn’t possible. At least for any human. She grunted. She’d learned that wasn’t the case with him. The night had taken her on one twisted path after another. What he’d turned into…she’d never believe. But she’d seen it. She’d flown with him. And whatever he was, she needed his help to find Janie.
He forced his way into the room and she followed.
“Janie!”
Janie lay on the bed, appearing dazed and oblivious to their entry. Her face was pale. The man she’d left the dome with earlier—Rocco—loomed over her. When he turned to face the intruders, his eyes glowed blood red. An eerie iridescence shone from the pupils.
“What the hell?” Larissa muttered.
“It’s a demon,” Roman warned. His voice deepened as he changed back into his gargoyle form.
“A demon,” she repeated, drumming her fingers against her hip. This wasn’t possible. The entire night was some sort of surreal dream. “A freakin’ demon.”
“Get away from here,” Roman warned, fully changed into his new form. “I’ll take care of this.”
“I can’t leave her!”
The man roared in a way she’d never heard—more animalistic than human, a sound that echoed in her ears. He tore himself off Janie and got to his feet. As he advanced, he shifted into something monstrous. His skin darkened to the color of burnt clay and his body grew, swelling to colossal proportions. He had to be seven feet tall. Curved, pointed horns extended from the top of his head, threatening to impale the ceiling. His features distorted, almost like Roman’s were in gargoyle form, but far more menacing. She still hadn’t fully processed Roman’s other form, but sensed he didn’t pose a danger to her. The one she now faced was worse. Much worse.
Clearly threatening.
You need to go!” Roman commanded.
“Like hell I do,” she said, drawing her gun.
“That won’t stop a demon,” Roman warned her. “It’s as useful as a toy!” He maneuvered into a defensive stance.
She ignored him to aim at the monster who was advancing on Roman.
The demon turned its focus on her. As she was about to pull the trigger, Roman launched himself on top of him, sending them both crashing through the window of the hotel. The sound of breaking glass echoed endlessly as pieces drifted outside or fell onto the rug.
Larissa gasped and ran to the broken window, looking down to where she would have expected them to land. No sign of them below. Searching the now onyx sky speckled with stars, movement straight ahead drew her to them. They were fighting in mid-air. The demon had sprouted enormous red wings she either hadn’t noticed before or he hadn’t extended until the fall.
“Get out of there,” Roman yelled. “I’ll find you.”
He soared off to face the demon. She clutched the gun, aiming, as two winged creatures she would never have believed existed rushed to each other in the sky.
What the hell, what the hell, what the hell?
The fight was unlike any she’d ever seen. Their enormous bodies moved with surprising grace through the air, but the blows were far from delicate. Each punch seemed to have the force of concrete behind it, knocking the other fighter back several feet.
Roman paused to look at her. “Go!”
During his momentary distraction, the de
mon hurled a massive arm to smash into Roman and sent him hurtling down.
“No!” He couldn’t be hurt. Or worse.
In the next instant, she fired, and missed her target. Shit, she’d never trained to shoot at flying fuckin’ demons!
The demon turned her way and spread his monstrous mouth in a cruel laugh, mocking her. He flew toward her, looming larger than any human she’d ever seen. Horror rose within her with the violence of dry heaves.
“Stay away. Stay the fuck away.” She followed him with the gun.
“Or what?” He zoomed closer. “You’ll shoot?” His last words were said in a high, mocking tone.
He flew so quickly, she barely had time to pull the trigger. This time it hit him square in the chest.
He roared and covered the wound on his chest. Purplish blood flowed through his clawed fingers, but he didn’t go down as if a human would have done. He reached inside the hole in his flesh and pulled out the bullet, throwing it into the chasm of night below.
Fury blazed in his scarlet eyes, directed at her.
The sound of sirens welled up from below. It should have comforted her—help was on the way. But this was the one time in her career when it added to the terror. None of them stood a chance against a demon.
He charged at her and the flap of his wings sluicing the air amplified in her ears.
Janie. She had to protect Janie.
She backed toward Janie to protect her while she continued to fire at him.
Nothing stopped his advance.
And Janie didn’t flinch. She didn’t utter a goddamn sound when Larissa knocked into her.
Please be okay.
No matter her pleas, she knew the severity of the situation.
Janie was gone.
She shut her eyes, wishing the truth away. But wispy tendrils of despair rose up and clung around her ribs like torn fabric on a skeleton.
First Roman and now Janie?
A clawed hand reached for the gun and tore it out of her hand so roughly, her shoulder almost popped from the joint. He threw it out the window. The horror of losing her weapon added to the mountain of despair.
The demon lifted her off the bed.
Tempted by the Gargoyle (a gargoyle shifter romance): Boston Stone Sentries Page 9
