Page 68 of Monsters in Love

It’s a lot to go through, but on the plus side, the more resources we have, the more likely we are to find a solution.

I’m still standing there, trying to figure out where to start, when Luc comes clambering in the window—evidently the sun set while I was goggling at all the freaking books. Watching him come in is like watching someone try to shove a sectional through a keyhole—even though it’s a big picture window, he’s so huge that he barely fits. His wings are folded back and he has to contort himself just to get inside. I bite my cheek to keep from laughing, but a few giggles escape and he frowns at me.

“What’s so funny?

“Nothing! Definitely not you folding yourself into an origami gargoyle just to get inside. Why not just use the door?” I shake my head and point to the trunks. “I did an inventory. Twelve trunks of books.”

His black eyes widen. “That many?”

“Yep. We need to find a way to divide and conquer, or else we’ll never get through it all. Oh, by the way, I finished my reveal spells on the house today. You know, just in case your heartstone was magically concealed? No luck. I can keep trying, though. A more powerful spell with something to ground it might work better.”

A startled expression drifts across his elegant features. For a monster, he actually is very good looking. And his body is banging.

“Really? You did that for me?”

“Of course. I said I would help.”

“You did, I know. You have kept your word and I appreciate all you have done. Thank you.” He looks puzzled. “I just…I am surprised that you, as a Winslow, would be willing to aid me.”

“What does being a Winslow have to do with it?”

He mutters under his breath while refusing to meet my gaze. “Nothing.”

Wait, is he being shy? Or coy? Who is this person, and where is the grouch I’m used to?

I tilt my head and stare at him, trying to figure out why he won’t look at me. If he thinks a Winslow witch won’t work with him… “Have youneverasked for help with this before? From anyone?”

“No…” he trails off.

“You’re telling me you’ve lived here with, what? Nine, maybe ten, generations of witches and it never occurred to you to ask any of them to help you break the curse?”

“Why would they help set me free?” he shouts in exasperation, throwing his taloned hands in the air. “Then they would lose my protection. Besides, it would be asking them to go against an ancestor’s wishes. I would not ask them to do that. I wouldn’t have asked it of you, either. But then you suggested our partnership.”

I flail my own hand in the air, waving off his suggestion. “Piffle! I’d never even heard of Mary Winslow before you told me your story. What do I care if her curse is broken? I’m closer to you than her, so why wouldn’t I try to help out? And no offense, but I don’t need you to protect me, especially against your will.”

He looks bemused, a small smile curving his generous lips. “You are an unusual girl, Anya Winslow.”

“I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. Fully grown and independent.” I arch a brow at him, daring him to contradict me. My life may be messy, but I have things under control. Mostly.

He nods. “I suppose that is true, even though you seem very young to me.”

“Yes, well, twenty-sevenisyoung compared to two-hundred-and-whatever, but I’m not a kid.”

“I’m more than 400, but I take your point.”

“Good! And I’m perfectly normal—you’re just out of touch, ancient one.”

“Is that so?” he says.

“Yes. Another thing. Would you please stop calling me Anya? I told you to call me Annie.”

“Oui, but you also said that is what your friends call you.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “Is it so hard for you to imagine that we might be friends? We live in the same house and have the same goals. We’re working together! We’ve been hanging out every night for nine days! Unless you dislike me for reasons you’ve yet to mention, I think it’s okay to consider us pals,mon ami.”

He looks like he’s fighting back another smile, probably at my terrible French accent. “I apologize if I have offended you. It’s only that I have never befriended a human before. Few of my kind have. Gargoyles do not tend to mingle with humans, even though we often occupy the same spaces. This relationship is new to me.”

“I’m not offended. Just pointing out the obvious. And what’s the deal with gargoyles not befriending humans? It hasn’t beenthathard.”

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