Page 3 of Hidden By the Gargoyle

It was his calm, quiet presence that had eased me. He seemed so strong and big, as though nothing could hurt him. Especially when he’d partially shifted to allow his wings to come out.

He’d asked me to hand him tools as he worked on the gutters. Sometimes, he worked in silence, but occasionally, he would ask me a question. Nothing intrusive or deeply personal. He asked about my favorite book. My favorite color. A couple of times, he told me stories about my aunt, Minerva. Things that she never would have told me herself, yet they made me smile.

After he was done fixing the gutters, he’d come back to replace a few of the shutters on the house that had been damaged by a hailstorm and he didn’t have to ask for my help. I would drift outside when he arrived and stay until he left.

Between his quiet strength and Minerva’s gentle and loving efforts, I’d finally emerged from beneath the fog of grief and begun living again.

I’d always felt like I could talk to him about anything, until I reached the age of seventeen and my eyes had suddenly opened to the opposite sex.

My platonic love for him had morphed into something I didn’t fully understand. I felt hot and flushed around him. Tongue-tied. It took me a while to realize that my physical reactions were attraction. Probably because I’d never experienced them before. None of the boys my age interested me. In fact, most of my classmates, male and female, didn’t interest me. Books did. They were my companions far more than the people around me.

Dax had changed toward me then, as well. Which made me even more self-conscious because I knew that he saw my crush and was trying to discourage it as gently as he could.

He kept his distance. He’d never been a hugger, but he would occasionally squeeze my shoulder or tug my ponytail when I was younger. Once I turned seventeen, that all stopped completely. He never so much as brushed against me.

He also didn’t carry on those easy conversations with me as often. And he made sure that Minerva was always within earshot when he was around me.

I wasn’t sure if he was afraid that I would throw myself at him or if he wanted to reassure Minerva that he wasn’t going to take advantage of my sudden crush, but it had been so embarrassing.

So, I’d stopped spending time around him. I made sure to vanish whenever he came over. Or bow out of public conversations with him as quickly as possible.

But my crush hadn’t died.

Even throughout college, my feelings continued.

Now that I had been back in town for nearly two years since I completed my master’s degree, I wasn’t as tongue-tied around him, but Dax made sure to maintain his distance.

We’d never resumed our easy friendship. And, somehow, even nine years later, it still hurt.

“It will be okay,” he rumbled next to me, pulling me from my thoughts.

“What?” I asked, my head turning toward him.

His dark blue eyes glanced at me before returning to the road. “I said it will be okay. I’ll keep you safe.”

He thought I was worried about myself. Which made my face heat. I should have been worried about myself and not lamenting the fact that I hadn’t had the same relationship with Dax for the past nine and a half years.

Clearly my priorities were all screwed up.

“I know,” I replied.

I felt Dax’s eyes on me, but he didn’t say anything else.

Until we came around a curve and saw a maelstrom of black and grey smoke shot through with arcs of purple lightning. It churned above the road in front of us. Edgar Sommerton hovered in the center.

How on earth had he found me? Had he discovered that I was the key rather than Sela?

Dax slammed on the brakes when that purple lightning shot from Sommerton’s hand and tore through the asphalt right in front of the SUV.

The amulet hanging from the rearview mirror flashed with bright white light and an iridescent grid of sparks flared to life over the vehicle.

We were close enough to see Sommerton’s expression and the spiderweb of black veins surrounding his eyes.

My heart slammed once in my chest before taking off in a galloping rhythm.

He was using the blackest of dark magic. The kind of magic that was nearly sentient. It infected the user like a virus, multiplying until its motives took over the witch or warlock. Until their personality disappeared and all that was left was evil.

“Stay in the car,” Dax said.

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