Page 13 of Gargoyle Sentinel

Mal regarded him with a grave expression. “That wasn't a hallucination, Danny.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Awesome. So I'm not crazy, just in the middle of some supernatural horror movie.” He winced. “Those things weren't human, were they?”

“No.” Mal’s voice was gentle but firm. “They weren’t.”

Danny's gaze darted around the room, taking in more of the ornate furniture, the massive four-poster bed, and the heavy velvet curtains. This was no ordinary safe house. This was the kind of place billionaires stayed when they wanted to ‘rough it’ in the mountains.

He should know. Definitely the type of place his snooty, entitled parents would insist on.

“Right. And I'm supposed to believe you’re merely some Good Samaritan who happened to be in the right place at the right time?” His voice held more bravado than he felt. His side also wouldn’t stop throbbing like something fierce, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental had shifted in his reality.

Malachi sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. “Not exactly. I was sent specifically to find you.”

“Cool. Thankfully, that’s not at all creepy.” Danny pulled the plush duvet tighter around himself.

“Fair enough.” Malachi nodded. “You have no reason to trust me. But I swear to you, Danny, I mean you no harm.”

The way this Malachi guy said his name sent an unexpected shiver down Danny’s spine. There was something in his tone—reverence, maybe?—that struck him as oddly intimate.

“How do you know my name?” Danny glanced around for potential escape routes. The bedroom door seemed miles away in his current state.

“It’s complicated.” Malachi sighed. “More complicated than you can imagine. But you deserve the truth.” He hesitated, then met Danny’s eyes with an intensity that made his breath catch. “You're special, Danny. Those creatures wanted you because of what you are.”

"WhatIam?" Danny let out a nervous laugh. “I’m a ski instructor who pisses off his parents by being gay. Not exactly prized treasure material.”

Malachi locked eyes with him. “You're Nephilim.” Malachi had announced it simply, as if that explained everything.

Danny blinked. “I'm...” He tilted his head. “What now?"

“Nephilim. Half-human, half-angel. Your bloodline traces back to one of the most powerful celestial beings formed by the Divine Spark’s hands.”

Danny stared at him for a beat before bursting into laughter, immediately regretting it when both his head, his side, and now his back protested. “Ow. Okay, now I know I’m still drugged. Or maybe I’m in a coma. Either way, this is much too weird to be real.” He pressed his palm against his forehead.

“Half-angel? Please. If you’d met my family, you’d know there’s nothing remotely angelic about the Rutherfords.”

Malachi’s expression remained serious, those penetrating eyes never wavering. “Your human lineage is irrelevant. The angelic blood comes from generations back, diluted but still potent. It's why they wanted you for their ritual.”

Danny’s mouth went dry. “Ritual?” The word sparked another flash of memory. Black candles, chanting in a language that made his skin crawl, the cold stone beneath his back. “They were going to...” His breath hitched. “…sacrifice me?”

"Yes.” Malachi’s voice had softened. “They believe your blood will give them power over all shadow gargoyles."

“Shadow gargoyles.” Danny pinched his eyebrows together.Fucking ridiculous.“And I’m supposed to believe this because...?”

“Because deep down, you’ve always felt different.” Malachi leaned forward, resting his folded hands on his knees. “As though you were meant for something more. Like there was an emptiness inside you that nothing could fill.”

The words slammed into Danny, forcing him to consider that the story Mal was trying to sell him might be true. Because how else could this stranger know the exact feeling that had haunted him his entire life?

“Lucky guess.” Danny laughed shakily.

“It's not a guess.” Malachi smiled. “It’s who you are, Danny. The emptiness you’ve felt is your dormant powers, your true nature trying to break through.”

Danny’s heart raced as he tried to process everything he was being told. Half-angel. Nephilim. Shadow gargoyles. It was too much, like someone had dropped him into a fantasy novel without giving him the first few chapters.

“So you’re what? My guardian angel?” He tried for sarcasm, but his voice came out more whiny than anything.

Malachi’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Not exactly. Michael and his cohorts would be insulted to have me referred to as an angel.” He sucked in a deep breath. “No, I'm a Shadow Slayer. One of the original gargoyles chosen by Archangel Michael to fight all the rogues and protect beings like you.”

Danny held up his palm. “Whoa, wait a hot second. Let me get this straight. I'm part angel, you're a gargoyle slayer, and those things that kidnapped me were shadow gargoyles. And an archangel…” He rolled his eyes. “As in an actual biblical archangel sent you to rescue me?” He crossed his arms. “Prove it.”

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