Page 38 of Let Go My Gargoyle
She didn’t want to be out in that yard alone ever again.
Chapter Thirteen
Oliver’s stone platform in the City of the Dead was empty.
Griffin tapped on the foot of a nearby statue until the gargoyle apparently grew annoyed enough to shift into her human form to bark down at him, “What is your problem?”
“I’m looking for Oliver.”
She waved her hand at the empty perch. “He isn’t here.”
Griffin bit his tongue and swallowed his snide retort. “Do you know where he is?”
“I am not his keeper.”
“I didn’t say you were. I really need to talk to him. It’s important.”
“The seeker always believes it is important.”
Griffin ground his teeth. The female gargoyle canted her head and said, “You are the newest member of our brethren.”
He nodded and hoped that knowledge would encourage the damn woman to become loose lipped.
“Have you failed at your first assignment already?” She sounded smug.
“Why do you ask that?”
“Oliver told me about you. How you believe you are not good enough to be one of the elite.” She nimbly leaped down to the ground. She had arched, black brows, a straight nose, full lips, dark skin, and a chin-length bob with a severe side part.
She patted her sleek strands and glanced at the sky, which had filled with thick, heavy clouds. “It’s so hard to maintain a straightened hairstyle in this humid city.” With a wave of her hand, she conjured a brightly colored scarf, which she wrapped around her head.
“I am Nikki,” she said with a nod.
“Griffin. What do you mean, I don’t believe I’m good enough to be one of the elite?”
“Well, do you?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because your confidence in yourself will make or break your assignments. Let me ask you this: do you think Oliver would choose someone for his team that he was not 100 percent sure could do the job?”
Griffin scoffed. “How would I know? I’ve only spoken to the man three times in my life.”
“But you are as aware of his reputation as any other gargoyle out there.”
Okay, she had a point. “Still, everyone makes mistakes.”
“This is true.”
She didn’t say any more, and he shook his head. “Can you just tell me when you expect him back?”
“I expect nothing of Oliver beyond him managing his brethren.”
Was it his imagination, or did she sound resentful? “Okay, let’s try it this way: is he in the city?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Good. And do you believe he plans to return this evening?”
