Page 6 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

“Mr. Grigori, I presume? I’m Natalie Russo, Ecco’s manager. I spoke with your uncle last night.”

“Pleasure,” he says, business-like. His eyes immediately turn back to land on me. “And you must be Ms. Waverly.”

“Ecco, say hello to Graeme, your new bodyguard,” Natalie prompts, flat-out amused by my silence.

I blink, trying to process her words, rage starting to build from deep inside.

Mywhat?!

3

GRAEME

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but early morning light is starting to filter through the windows of my apartment, painting the minimalist space in shades of gray. I sit up in bed, the cool silk sheets sliding off my bare chest.

The woman beside me stirs.

“Mmm, last night was incredible,” she purrs, pressing her naked curves against my side and snaking an arm around my waist. She nuzzles her face against my wings in a gesture that is overly intimate. “How about a little encore before breakfast?”

Memories of our wild romp flash through my mind—her soft mouth, the way she moaned my name. It was enjoyable, but it was temporary. I was extremely clear with her that I only do one-night stands.

I’m already pulling away, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, unfurling my wings to stretch and then folding them back up again.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I say, looking over my shoulder at her. “I’ve got places to be.”

She pouts, sitting up to let the sheets pool around her waist, putting her ample breasts on full display.

“Come on, handsome. Surely you can spare a few minutes for some fun?”

I stand, not bothering to glance back as I head for the closet. “I told you, I don’t do repeats. Last night was great, and now it’s time for you to go.”

No attachments, no second chances.

Half the time, I don’t even remember their names. It’s easier that way. Safer. In my line of work, emotional entanglements are a liability I just can’t risk.

The woman huffs in annoyance behind me, but I’m already moving on, my mind shifting to the day ahead. I yank on jeans and a fitted t-shirt that stretches over my muscular frame. The shirt allows for my wings to stretch out behind me. Oftentimes, though, I use my gargoyle magic to hide them entirely.

Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I’m unsurprised to see a missed call from Alvric. My uncle—and clan leader—is already riding my ass this morning. Great.

I toss the woman’s little black dress at her, watching impassively as she tugs the tight fabric over her curves. After she has her dress on, she crosses her arms and gives me an expectant look. I’m not sure what she wants from me—a kiss? A sweet goodbye?

Since I’ve never been in a relationship, I’ve never had to learn the intricacies of someone else’s emotional needs.

Now is not the time to start.

“I have to begin my day,” I tell her. “I’m sorry. I really do need you to leave.”

She glares, but reluctantly follows me to the front door. I usher her out, closing the door firmly behind her.

The phone rings again mere seconds after the lock clicks into place, as if Alvric were waiting for her to leave. I glance at the screen where his name flashes insistently. With a sigh, I swipe to answer.

“Uncle. What can I do for you?” My tone is brisk, all business.

“Graeme.” His voice is gravelly and deep, with a commanding undertone speaking to his decades of leadership. “I trust you’ve concluded your latest assignment?”

I confirm the foreign dignitaries I’ve been protecting for months have safely returned to their homeland.

Alvric grunts his approval.

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