Page 54 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

Mariah stands in the hall. Her eyes dart from my rumpled state to Graeme’s imposing stance behind me, and a knowing look spreads across her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?” she teases.

I shoot her a quelling look, my cheeks flushing.

“Shut up,” I mutter, but I can’t hide my own grin. Part of me wants to shout from the rooftops that Graeme and I hooked up, but he’s such a private person, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

And besides, I’m still not totally sure what we’re doing, or what comes next.

Mariah’s expression sobers, bringing my attention back to her.

“I was actually heading over to visit Velda,” she says. “Poor thing could use some company, and I thought we could see if there’s anything we can do to help her feel better and… you know… get a bit of control over the whole snow situation.”

I hesitate, my gaze darting between Mariah and Graeme. I’m reluctant to leave our room, worried the spell will be broken and whatever fragile thing we’ve started will blow away like dust in the wind.

I chew my bottom lip, torn.

Graeme places a reassuring hand on the small of my back.

“We should go,” he rumbles. “I’ll accompany you, of course. Can’t let you out of my sight.” His words are gruff, but I can hear the underlying tenderness. “But I’ll give you as much privacy as I can.”

For once, the thought of Graeme shadowing my every move doesn’t irritate me. In fact, I find myself craving his constant presence, wanting him by my side always.

Funny how quickly things can change.

After Graemeand I dress for the cold, the three of us head out, and I ignore Mariah’s questioning gaze. We walk toward the edge of town where Velda lives, chattering instead about thecrazy endless snow, my comments punctuated by the crunch of icy snow between our feet.

We let ourselves into Velda’s front yard, but a familiar figure emerges from the front door, stopping us all in our tracks.

Deandra.

My steps falter as apprehension and old hurt rise in my throat. I can feel my body tensing, my hands clenching into fists at my sides, and I brace myself for another confrontation with my mother.

But when Deandra turns to face us, her expression is not the smug, self-assured mask I’m used to seeing. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes, a hesitance in the way she approaches us that throws me off balance.

It’s like looking at a stranger wearing my mother’s face.

“Ecco,” she says softly, her voice uncharacteristically tentative. “I’m glad we ran into each other. Can we... can we go somewhere and talk?”

I glance uncertainly at Mariah, not wanting to ditch my friend, especially not for Deandra. But Mariah, ever perceptive, just gives me a reassuring smile.

“Go ahead,” she says. “We’ll catch up later.”

I sigh, squaring my shoulders as I turn back to Deandra. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Deandra’s gaze drifts to Graeme, standing silently behind me. I scowl, remembering how she shamelessly threw herself at him during the wedding reception.

“He’s coming too,” I say firmly, my tone brooking no argument.

To my surprise, Deandra just holds her hands up in a mea culpa. “I’ll behave myself, I promise.”

I lead us to the Orc’s Anvil taproom, knowing that if I’m going to have a heart-to-heart with my mom, there needs to be alcohol involved.

The walk is awkward, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife. The only thing that keeps me from turning tail and running is Graeme’s steady presence behind me.

Safe, I think again.

Whatever bombs Deandra is about to drop, whatever emotional minefield I’m about to navigate, at least Graeme will also be there.

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