Page 6 of Gargoyle Reaper

While staring at his fated one was truly tempting, they were better served if he remained vigilant of their surroundings. Despite how reckless the shadow gargoyles had been lately, they rarely attacked in public, and never during the day.

Regardless, Ezekiel kept his senses on high alert. If shadow gargoyles were in the vicinity, he’d feel their presence. He understood why Archer needed to process everything that was happening, and he was proud that his mate possessed such a strong character. But if ever time was crucial, it was now. The rogues knew the relic was nearby and they’d already tortured to get more info. Perhaps Ronen unwittingly confessed something when he was at their mercy.

“Here we are.” Archer opened the door and gestured for Ezekiel to go ahead.

Ezekiel smiled. “Thanks. But after you.”

He swept his hand toward the interior of the busy, bright and modern coffeehouse. With a scowl, Archer stepped inside with Ezekiel close on his heels. Once they ordered, he chose a small tiled table with two uncomfortable wrought iron chairs as far from the crowd as feasible. He scraped the ornate chair closer to Archer so he could keep their conversation private. Otherwise, he’d be yelling to be heard above the noisy echo of chatter.

To his surprise, Archer didn’t recoil from him the way he’d been doing so far. Instead, he seemed to welcome Ezekiel’s closeness. But no sooner had the thought left him, Archer cleared his throat and angled his body away from Ezekiel, his eyes darting around as he took a sip of his coffee.

Ezekiel sighed, admonishing himself for getting hurt by Archer’s unspoken rejection. Maybe Archer wasn’t entirely human, but he was clearly unaware of his angelic heritage, and probably still thought Ezekiel was a lunatic.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Ezekiel almost laid his hand on Archer’s but stopped himself in time. Was Archer even gay? That could be awkward. He cleared his throat before continuing. “If I could spare you this anguish, I would.”

Archer cocked his head. “You have an unusual manner of speaking.”

Ezekiel raised his eyebrows. He didn’t get out much, particularly not in the last century when his healing powers had been needed the most, but no one had ever commented on the way he spoke before.

“How do you mean?”

Archer rubbed his chin then took another sip of coffee before setting down his cup. “Hmm. I suppose the best way to describe it would be as if I was reading something from Pride and Prejudice.”

“The romantic tale by Jane Austen?”

Archer pinked and averted his gaze. “You know what I mean. As if you just stepped out of an episode of Bridgerton.”

Ezekiel drew his eyebrows together. “I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.”

Archer regarded him as if he were under a microscope. “You know, the more I’m around you, the more I find myself believing your goofy story.”

Ezekiel huffed. “Please. I concede that this must be overwhelming for you, but I would hardly describe what happened at your homegoofy.”

Archer frowned and let out a small growl. “There’s something we can both agree on.” He took another big swallow of his coffee then swept the cup aside. “Enough of this chit-chat. Tell me what the hell we’re supposed to do next? Obviously, we go to the bank, and we see what this supposed relic is. But then what? Take it to the authorities?”

Ezekiel didn’t want to get frustrated with his mate, but his nerves were truly being tested. “As I explained earlier, that’s the last thing we can do. We need to get the relic, but we can’t rush in if we’re being watched. We could be ambushed right after we have the relic in our possession.”

Archer straightened, whipping his head around the room. “Do you think someone followed us?”

Ezekiel placed a reassuring hand on Archer's arm before he could stop himself, the jolt of electricity at the contact stealing his breath. He quickly pulled back at Archer’s startled expression. “No, I don't sense any immediate danger. But we must remain cautious.”

Archer nodded, his jaw slack. “I…” He blinked several times then straightened again, rolling his shoulders as if trying to wake himself up. “Right. So what's the plan then? We can't just sit here all day.”

“We need to formulate a strategy, and a colleague is nearby who we’ll meet with soon.” Ezekiel hesitated to use Uriel’s name yet. Archer didn’t need more ammunition to doubt what was happening. “The shadow gargoyles are ruthless and cunning. You saw what they did to your home. They’re equally ruthless when it comes to getting what they want from someone.”

Archer ran a hand through his hair. “This is insane. I must reiterate that I'm a surgeon, not some... supernatural treasure hunter.”

Ezekiel's heart ached over his mate's distress. “I understand this is difficult to accept, but you're more than a treasure hunter to me.”

Archer narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that? You keep acting as if I’m someone special to you.” He snorted. “Which is even more ridiculous than this holy relic nonsense.”

Exekiel’s chest tightened, his heart hurting for his mate. “Why should someone finding you special be so impossible? I imagine you possess many fine qualities. The fact that you’re a healer says so much about your character.”

“I…that’s not…”

Archer frowned before glancing away, then shifted his position on the unforgiving metal of the chair. Ezekiel knew how he felt. The coffee shopreallydidn’t want their customers lingering.

Ezekiel took a chance and clasped Archer’s fingers, but Archer yanked his hand away. “I’m sorry, Archer. It’s only that I can feel your anguish, and I wish I could comfort you.”

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