Page 8 of Gargoyle Reaper

Archer glared at him. “What aren’t you telling me?” He balled his fists. “You promised not to hold anything back! This isn’t a great way to build trust, you know?”

Ezekiel’s stomach did a flip. That one small statement meant that Archer was considering a relationship on some level. Even if it wasn’t the one they were meant to share, there was now the possibility of something.

“I know, you’re right,” said Ezekiel. “Part of my hesitation is that I’m not sure yet.”

Archer frowned. “Not sure of what exactly?”

“Well…” Ezekiel shifted from foot to foot. “Shadow Slayers aren’t destined to mate with any type of human.”

He arched his eyebrows. “I take it that these gargoyles, of which you’re one, are the Shadow Slayers?”

“Correct. And the only fated mates that the Divine Spark has chosen for us are Nephilim.”

Archer snorted. “What the hell is that?”

“Half human, half angel.”

Archer stared at Ezekiel for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he burst out laughing, the sound tinged with hysteria. “Oh, that's rich. First, I'm supposed to believe ingargoyles and demons, and now you're telling me I'm half angel? I can hardly wait to hear what’s next.”

Ezekiel winced, understanding the absurdity of it all from Archer’s perspective. “I know it's a lot to take in—"

“A lot?” He interrupted, his laughter dying abruptly. “Try impossible. I'm just... me. A regular guy who happens to be good at surgery. There's nothing angelic about that.” He huffed. “My ridiculously expensive education is the culprit when it comes to any expert abilities I might possess.”

Ezekiel took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Your skill as a healer might not be as ordinary as you think. And there are other signs—the way you reacted when I touched you, right? I saw how startled you were.” He arched his eyebrows. “When you say you don’t believe in the supernatural, what does that mean exactly? You’re telling me you’ve never experienced anything? Not a premonition, deja vu, a flash of something you couldn’t explain. Nothing?”

Archer took a step back from Ezekiel, as if the words he’d used held a physical power. He shook his head a bit too frantically, rubbing his wrist as he glanced away.

“I prefer everything to be logical and ordered,” said Archer in a biting tone. “Chaos and uncertainty have no business in my life, and I refuse to allow this nonsense you’re spouting to disrupt my world.”

Ezekiel chuckled before he could stop himself. He was rewarded with an icy glare from Archer. “I’m sorry, Archer. I’m not mocking you. But what you describe is impossible. No one’s existence is perfect. Surprises, abrupt change, disappointments—that’s true for everyone.” Ezekiel smiled. “Supernatural or not.”

“Look.” Archer licked his top lip. “I doubt you’d understand. But I grew up in the foster care system, and I swore I’d never let my world be such a mess again. I was bounced around from hereto there, no one would commit to me for some reason, and the homes were typically overcrowded. I formed zero attachments, there was never a chance for me to get settled.” He looked away. “I still don’t understand why other kids stayed when I was kicked out. I don’t remember causing any problems. I don’t know why…”

His breath hitched then he shook his head again. “God, I have no idea why I’m telling you any of this. I never talk about it anymore.” He shrugged. “What’s the point? It happened when I was a kid. Means nothing now.”

Ezekiel’s heart broke for his mate. If only he could hold him, comfort him. “Of course it means something. All your experiences shaped who you are today.” Ezekiel rubbed his forehead. “Perhaps there were moments from your childhood, events you’ve tucked away, that indicate your true identity. Maybe that’s why your foster families never bonded with you. Do you know anything about your real parents, your history?”

“Not a damn thing,” Archer growled. “I was one of those special cases, loved so much I was dumped at a fire station. No one knew who the fuck I was, not even my real name.” Archer regarded Ezekiel with a scowl. “Archer was what my first family called me, and their last name was Blackwood. So that’s what went on my updated birth certificate. Basically, it’s all bullshit. I’m not really me.”

He barked out a derisive laugh. “So sure, whatever. I can be your Fated One, your little angel.” He jabbed a finger at Ezekiel. “But let’s get this shit over with so I can go back to my old make-believe existence or start a new one if everything’s been destroyed as you claim.”

He crossed his arms, anger blazing from his eyes. Ezekiel hated the way his mate had been treated, despised how Archer was cast aside. He’d never let that happen to him again. Withthat in mind, he laid a hand on Archer’s arm, battling the urge to feel hurt when Archer flinched.

He has to feel the connection.

“I won’t hurt you, Archer. And I’ll never allow anyone else to, either.”

They locked eyes, Archer not backing away from their shared gaze. “Sure, Slayer. Whatever you say.”

Chapter Four

Archer followed Ezekiel as he rushed down the street, barely able to keep up with the statuesque man who moved with an impressive gait.

“Hold up! What about my car?”

Archer chuckled at the irony of him willingly trailing behind Ezekiel instead of being coaxed to do his bidding. Ezekiel paused then turned to face him. His jaw dropped then he rushed to Archer’s side.

“I apologize, dearest. A message came through from Cassiel that Uriel is waiting for us in the Square near the library.”

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