Page 5 of Gargoyle Reaper

Archer turned the package over, the large padded envelope unremarkable except for the weight of its contents. The stranger reached for the envelope again.

“Please. I would be devastated if anything were to happen to you.”

This time, Archer had to chuckle. The guy was too over the top. “You’re not opening my private mail, so get over it.”

The stranger pressed his lips in a severe line and crossed his arms. He didn’t, however, stand back.

With a shake of his head, Archer tore open the envelope. Inside was a single key, a handwritten note, and the attorney’s business card. He glanced at the back, where the attorney wrote that he’d been instructed to send Archer the key upon word of his death. Archer unfolded the paper and glanced down at the signature. His blood seemed to turn to ice. The signature belonged to a recently deceased patient, Colin Fitzgerald.

The memory of Mr. Fitzgerald saying he’d chosen him as his surgeon for a reason he wouldn’t reveal came rushing back to him. Who was his former patient, really?

“My dear Dr. Blackwood,” the note read. “If you're reading this, I'm no longer among the living. I entrust you with a great responsibility and an even greater secret. The key enclosed opens a safety deposit box at First National Bank on Boylston Street, containing an artifact of immense power. Guard it with your life, for dark forces seek to claim it. Trust no one but those who speak of the Divine Spark. The fate of our world may rest in your hands. Godspeed, Colin Fitzgerald.”

Archer’s hands trembled as he re-read the cryptic message. He tried to recall all he could of Colin—an eccentric but kind older gentleman who came in for a routine hip replacement. He'd died unexpectedly of cardiac arrest just days after being discharged. Now, he wondered if something more sinister was behind his demise.

The stranger's deep voice broke through Archer’s racing thoughts. “What does it say?”

Archer cleared his throat, his mind a jumble of confused emotions. The paranoia was real. He rubbed his forehead. Colin’s message was eerily similar to the stranger’s ramblings.

“Here. Read it.”

Archer shoved the note at him but curled his fingers around the key. It felt as if the fate of the world truly was in his hands.

The stranger's eyes widened as he scanned the note, his posture tensing with each line. When he finished, he peered up at Archer with an intensity that made the surgeon's breath catch.

“This changes everything,” the stranger said, his voice low and urgent. “We need to move. Now.”

“Who’s we?” Archer snorted. “I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even know your name.”

The stranger paused as if debating whether to reveal this information. Finally, he sighed. “Ezekiel. My name is Ezekiel.”

“Well, Ezekiel,” Archer said, crossing his arms again. “You still haven't given me a good reason to trust you. All you’ve told me so far is I’m in danger. What ifyou’rethe reason for that? I need more information before I do another thing.”

He clutched the key in the palm of his hand and his phone was at the ready in his pocket. Calling the police remained on the table unless this Ezekiel guy gave him a damn good reason to go along with his wild story.

Ezekiel's expression softened. “I don’t mean to be so abrupt with you, of all people. Several of my colleagues can be rather bossy, and I don’t appreciate it.” He ran his hand across the top of his head. “But it would put me more at ease if we left your home. I don’t think the demons or their minions will return right now, but it’s hard to say. They’ve been becoming more brazen.”

Archer weighed the options. He could dig in his heels and refuse to leave with Ezekiel, the mysterious regal hunk who may or may not want to kill him. Or, he could lock up his house and go somewhere in public and maybe figure out what the ever-loving hell was going on. Should it become clear that nothing dire was happening and Ezekiel was merely delusional, it would be a much easier task to get help if they weren’t alone.

Yet, something about the situation nagged at him. How likely was it that his former patient would send him a key regarding an ancient relic right after Ezekiel claimed that was why his house was broken into? In which case, Ezekiel might be trying to trick him by pretending to be on his side. Maybe it was Ezekiel who’d broken in and was behind all the destruction.

However, when Ezekiel promised to shield him from whoever was at the door and protect him with his life, the idea had sent a thrill through him, even if he couldn't explain why. With a sinking heart, Archer reminded himself that he was crap at reading people, especially men he found attractive. His pathetic attempts at relationships certainly bore that out, and those hadn’t been guys spouting off about demons, holy relics, and the fate of the world.

“All right. I’ll go with you. But first, I need some coffee. There’s a place I frequent downtown where we can talk.”

Ezekiel’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. The sooner I get you away from here, the better. We’ll still need to be vigilant, and you must follow my instructions to the letter.” He held up his hand in a placating gesture. “Not because I want to boss you around, but so I have the best chance of keeping you safe.”

That thrill of Ezekiel being concerned for his safety coursed through him again. So ridiculous, yet so wonderful at the same time.

“Fine. I’ll play along.” Archer jabbed a finger at the mysterious Ezekiel. “For now.”

Chapter Three

Ezekiel tried not to stare at Archer as they made their way down the sidewalk. Over the many centuries of waiting, he’d refused to fantasize about what his mate would look like. His appearance wasn’t important. But the tall, ruggedly handsome man with a full head of wavy brown hair and piercing green eyes would’ve called to him regardless of them being fated.

Archer claimed the coffee shop was nearby and it would be quicker than trying to find a parking spot. He glanced at Archer again and got a side-eye and smirk for his trouble.

This was the man he now knew was his mate. Such a fantastic turn of events. But was Archer a man? He had to be Nephilim, or else they couldn’t be fated. Yet, Archer was adamant that he didn’t believe in anything of a supernatural nature.

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