Page 46 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

But a tendril of doubt seeps in alongside the anger.

What if she’s right? What if I’ve been so focused on upholding the traditions of the past that I’ve failed to see the world for what it truly is?

The thought is unsettling, a crack in the armor of certainty that I’ve worn for so long.

Suddenly, I realize I’ve been thinking silently for a long time—everyone else has left the town hall, leaving just the two of us standing in silence. I meet Ecco’s eyes and see them full of a compassion that I’m not quite ready to accept.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can utter a word, a sudden clatter from the corner of the room snaps our attention away from the argument.

My senses sharpen, I step protectively in front of Ecco. Every nerve ending crackles with anticipation as I scan the shadows for any sign of danger.

Time seems to slow to a crawl.

And then I see it: a distorted figure lurking in the darkness, its form flickering and shifting like a mirage in desert heat. The misshapen form has a sickening twist of something unalive about it.

Ecco’s stalker.

In that moment, everything else falls away. All that matters is the threat before us, the need to protect Ecco at any cost.

The stalker takes a step forward, its movements jerky and unnatural, like a puppet on invisible strings.

I can feel the power thrumming through my veins, the ancient magic of my kind rising to the surface as I prepare to strike.

17

GRAEME

The figure whirls in a swirl of shadow and bolts for the door. It moves with a speed I’ve never seen before from any magical creature, form blurring as it slips out of the room and melts into the hall’s lengthening shadows.

I lock eyes with Ecco, my breath catching at the raw terror reflected there. Her face is pale as snow, eyes wide as saucers.

The truth hangs heavy between us—the threat ishere. In Elderberry Falls.

In the very room that was filled with children just minutes ago.

Pure protective instinct rips through me, and I free my wings. A growl rumbles up from my chest as I pull Ecco against my side, shielding her with the bulk of my body and wrapping a wing around her. Her hair tickles my jaw, smelling of vanilla and jasmine and the ocean spray.

I tamp down the surge of arousal, focusing on the threat.

“Call the police. Now,” I order, my voice steady and commanding despite my hammering heart.

Ecco nods, fumbling for her phone with trembling hands. She presses herself into my side as she dials.

My mind races, assessing weak points, escape routes, ways to keep Ecco safe. I compartmentalize the fear, the fury, the tangled knot of unnamed emotions.

I have a job to do.

Phone tucked against her ear, Ecco lets me lead her by the hand toward where the stalker fled—the only door from this room that leads out to the front of the building. Overturned chairs and scattered sheet music litter our path, evidence of the intruder’s haste.

As we near the spot where it stood, my senses sharpen to pinpoints. Nostrils flaring, I scent the air, parsing unfamiliar notes amidst the choir room’s cacophony of aromas.

There: faint but unmistakable. Something sweet, almost cloying. And beneath it, a scent that turns my nostrils, like something burning or melting.

I curl my free hand into a fist, jaw clenching until my stone teeth grind. The stalker escaped, but they left a trail.

And I will hunt them to the ends of the earth before I let them touch a hair on Ecco’s head.

When the Elderberry Falls police arrive, Ecco relaxes against me. The officers cut striking figures: one a hulking troll, the other a lithe pixie who floats above the room. They couldn’t look more different but their faces are both etched with the same grim purpose.

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