by Tamsin Baker
Probably both. I take a long, deep breath, reaching inside myself for the courage that used to be there.
“She’s my Beloved, isn’t she, brother?”
There I said it, and it was like pulling nails through my throat.
Roman smiles at me. “I can’t tell you that, but her reaction was pretty extreme. As was yours. How did you feel when you saw her, smelled her for the first time?”
I don’t really want to remember, but the memories come flooding back in.
“She … I, um.” I swallow hard and focus on Chrissy, who is smiling encouragingly at me.
I try again. “There was this really intense pain around my chest, and I couldn’t stand.”
Roman nods. “Yes. Same thing happened to me when I felt Christiana the first time. I was on my knees in the street outside of the restaurant.”
So it’s true. I have found my Beloved.
“We need to speak to the elders. Find a way around this curse.”
Roman and Chrissy share a strange look.
“Um, what do you mean, Rafael? Don’t you want to bond with Isabella?”
I groan, the irony of her name hitting me in the gut like a sucker punch.
“Her name is Beautiful…” I laugh with dark humor. “That would be right. Beauty and the Beast.”
My brother frowns at me as he gets to his feet.
“You are no beast, Rafe. Don’t speak about yourself in that way. You saw how your Beloved looked at you. She will love you for who you are, not what those bastards did to you.”
I pull away from Roman and his kind words.
“You have no idea what I went through, Roman.”
Roman’s face scrunches up. “I was there, Rafe, and I know how much you fear sunrise every day. I see the way you shake as you walk across the library roof. I know you’ve tried to sleep here instead.”
That had been the most horrendous night of my existence. I’d been so terrified those first nights after the attack to go back to the library, I’d stayed at the apartment, the sunlight transforming me into a Gargoyle on top of our balcony. But the pain had been indescribably terrible. I had spent the whole twelve hours, conscious, frozen and feeling like I was being dipped in hot oil.
When the sun had come up the next day, despite my trembling anxiety, I had gone to the library, knelt down, and resumed my position.
I turn my back on my brother. “You were there, but they barely touched you. You aren’t some disfigured, ugly creature.”
“I’ve done everything I can to protect us, Rafe. Increased the security to five-fold what we had before. Linked the surveillance to a larger company.”
“I know you have.”
I know Roman has done more than he needs to. Every night he’s on the phone dealing with private contractors and new security teams.
The Gargoyle brother families in Canada and L.A. have all increased their security teams, too, but I know those men who attacked us will come back. And next time we may not be so lucky.
I am suddenly overwhelmed with the need to fly, which I haven’t done since the night before the attack.
Forever. The longest I’ve ever gone.
“I need to go.”
“You’re going out? Good. Gabriel and Nate are at Chaos if you want to catch up with them?”
I shudder at the idea of going to a nightclub where people will be able to see my face.
“No. I just want to fly. It’s been a while.”
Roman’s strong hand claps me on the back.
“Want me to come with you?”
“No.”
Roman’s hand flinches away, and guilt floods me.
I turn back around, attempting a proper smile.
“Thank you for the offer, brother, but I think you should stay and enjoy your Beloved.”
Chrissy steps closer and wraps her arms around my waist. Her small weight presses against me. Her warmth is startling to my undernourished nervous system, and for a moment I just freeze.
And then she pulls away and grins up at me with as much adoration as I’ve ever seen anyone look at me with.
“You deserve your happily ever after, Rafe. I hope she comes looking for you again and you give her a chance, ‘coz this Fated Beloved thing is pretty amazing.”
I back away from the intense feelings Chrissy is glowing with. She is too in love, and my fragile core could not handle the heat.
I clear my throat, the sound too loud in the room. Like I was in a glass fishbowl and someone was tapping against the glass, the voices exploding as the finger tapping pounds.
“Ah. Okay. I’ll see you a bit later, Roman. Good night, Chrissy.”
I turn away and run towards the doors and onto the balcony. Thank God, I still have use of my legs and arms. Perversely, most of the damage was cosmetic, though my shoulder had quite a big chunk out of it.
I launch myself over the edge, my wings extending out and catching the air around me, allowing me to soar over up and over the buildings of New York City.
The city they say, never slept.
I push myself higher, enjoying the bright lights of the city, the hubbub of the people beneath. Nightclubs still pound with music; restaurants are full of people.
“Oh … God.”
Pain threads through my chest the further from home I fly. I begin to drop lower, unable to maintain the height with the burning in my ribs. I turn myself around and decide to head home.
The pain eases immediately, and I breathe a sigh of relief. But something is calling to me, and as I fly around the buildings, my wings and I invisible to the human eye, I land where my instincts tell me to land.
On an old, small building next door to the library.
I breathe in and out, intensely grateful for the reprieve of the pain that I experienced when I flew.
I need to go into the building, and I don’t know why.
I look over the ledge and there is a small, iron fenced balcony beneath me.
On it, sits Isabella. Alone.
My knees wobble, and I lock them so I don’t fall to the pavement like last time.
I stare at her, pleasure weaving through my body, bringing with it a peaceful light.
What is this?
She suddenly looks up, and our gazes lock.
Her mouth drops open, and my heart tightens inside my chest like an invisible hand squeezing.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
“Rafael,” she whispers, and I step over the ledge, landing with a thud on the balcony ten feet below.
She gasps and takes a step back from me, pressing herself into the metal balustrade.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, not even sure why I had jumped. I knew this wasn’t the time for me to find my Beloved. Knew it to my core. I was barely able to go about my daily routine. Why would Fate send me the one, now?
“How did you find me?” she asks, swallowing visibly.
“I…” How did I explain this to a human? “I just followed my instincts, but I didn’t think they would lead to you.”
Her eyes narrow as she hears my ancient accent. No amount of tutoring has ever fully changed it.
“What are you?” she asks, leaning closer as though she’s going to touch me again.
“Can we go inside?” I ask, holding my breath as she freezes, her hand inches away from me.
“Um. Okay.”
I wait, unsure of where to go, or if someone else will be inside.
She sees my hesitation and walks in ahead of me, turning on the lights with a sudden, brilliant flash.
“No. Turn them off.”
I face away, not wanting her to see the extensiveness of my scars in this sort of bright light.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t turn them off right away, and the tightness in my chest increases. I can’t breathe, and if this is how she wants to play it, I can’t stay.
I take a step towards the still open balcony door and the lights dim.
The vise on my ribs releases, and I turn
around once again.
She is standing by the kitchen, a glass in hand.
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
She picks up a bottle of wine and with a shaking hand pours herself a glass of red.
“Are you going to answer my question, Rafael? What are you?”
I square my shoulders, preparing myself to tell the truth to a human for the first time in my existence.
“I am a Gargoyle shifter. During the day, I sleep on top of the city library.”
“My work?” she asks, her eyebrows rising quizzically.
“Yes. Although I have been there a lot longer than you.”
Her face is relatively blank now. I wait for a reaction, but it doesn’t come.
“You expect me to believe that?” she finally says, her tone dry, unaffected.
I want to laugh, but I can’t. Did Roman have this much trouble with Chrissy?
“I don’t lie. There’s only one way to prove it and that’s when the sun comes up in the morning. For now, though, I could fly you over the city if you would like.”
She swallows hard, her throat working as she stares at me longer with her piercing green eyes.
“What are you talking about, Rafael?”
I try a different tack. “I have wings.”
“Where?” she asks as though she’s asking about the weather.
I extend them outside my body frame and flutter them for fun, assuming of course that she would not be able to see them.
When she falls back against the couch, her mouth agape and her eyes wide with horror, I pull them back into my body quickly.
“Holy shit…” she gasps at me, her eyes running up and down my body like she’s never seen something like me before. And, of course, she hasn’t.
“You can see them, can’t you?” I ask, amazed. I have flashed my wings at hundreds of humans over the years, and yet no one has ever been able to see them before.
She nods, her back still pressing into the couch like it can give some protection from me. Pity floods through me, and my chest deflates. I want to reach out, comfort her.
Is this because she’s my Beloved? I had never thought to ask Roman much about what happens we find our one person.
“Ah, I apologize for scaring you. No other human has ever been able to see my wings, and I didn’t think you would be able to either.”
She stares with wide open eyes. “I’ve always suspected that there was some truth in the old fables and fairytales. Vampires, witches … werewolves and such. But I still can’t quite believe it…”
“Yes, they all exist. In different forms. Not quite like in the movies though.”
She continues to stare unblinkingly at me, and a shiver courses up my spine. It is strange to feel so much for a woman I didn’t know. Her fear is a palpable thing, inching across my skin like a crawling spider. I am finding it harder to breathe as I continue to stare at her.
“I should go.”
I back towards the door, though my heart screams at me to stay, to gather her close and hold her there. Forever.
But I can’t. That would be terrible, for both of us.
“No. Don’t. Stay. Please.”
She moves forward on her seat and holds out a hand to me. Her caress … that first touch which had made my knees quake the moment we met.
Compelled by her plea, I move to the couch, unable to stop the yearning that eats at my insides.
I sit down on the couch with her, as far away as possible so we aren’t touching. I’m not sure how my body will cope if she puts her hands on me again.
She turns around so that she can look up at me. I flinch away as her gaze runs all over my face.
She reaches for me and takes my hand in hers. The warm press of her soft flesh against mine makes a soft moan rise in my throat. I swallow it down, embarrassed by my weakness. My loneliness.
“What happened to you?” she asks, her voice soft and kind.
“I…” I clear my throat. The warmth of her gaze floods over me in a strange way. “I may as well tell you everything and then you can decide if you wish to continue.”
She nods, and her mouth tightens. She seems to be quite an independent woman. Her job, her own apartment, her very presence.
I am sure she doesn’t like the uncontrollable attraction she has to me.
And that makes me angry, the tightness in my jaw becoming painful. She has no choice in our fated union, and I would be a true bastard if I joined her to a monster like me.
“My brothers and I are Gargoyle shifters. During the day we sleep, in Gargoyle form, on the roof of the city library. At night, we are free to roam the city as men.”
Her intelligent eyes snap sharply as she stares at me.
“All right, Rafael … assuming I believe you. What happened to your face?”
One big step done.
I take a breath, trying to keep my unstable emotions out of my response.
“There is a band of humans that knows about our existence, and yet … they seem to hate us. I do not know why. They have killed a lot of our brethren in L.A., and they attacked us a month ago.”
She put her hands up, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Hang on a second. You mean those men that were killed on top of the library were Gargoyle murderers?”
Her lips twitch as though she’s amused, and I pull away from her when she attempts to touch me again.
She flinches away, and I lean forward, glaring at her with as much force as I can muster, though a part of me hurts to do so.
“When we are in Gargoyle form, we are frozen. Helpless. I had to sit there and watch as men shot bullets at my brother and me and almost pushed me off the library! They took pieces off my face and shoulder, and I will be a grotesque monster for the rest of my existence, which, in case you wanted to know, is forever!”
I am panting by now as anxiety wraps around my chest and presses inward. I get to my feet, pacing the small, but comfortable lounge room.
How could she find this funny?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
“No, you don’t. Because you’re a silly little human who’s never experienced any loss. Your existence is a few decades at most. I have centuries to look forward to, if those men don’t get me first.”
The hot tide in my chest is rising, and I want to cause some damage. Do some harm. The anger in my gut burns like lead.
She stands up and stares at me, her green eyes like glowing orbs in the night. Beautiful Bella.
“That’s not fair. I’ve never even heard of a shifter…”
I’ve heard enough. And I can’t be near her anymore.
I run for the window and launch myself off the balcony. I hear her cry out as I extend my wings and take flight on the currents of air that fly up from the buildings.
I need to go home and calm down enough to prepare for the coming day. Because once again I will be forced to kneel down and give away all control of my body and trust my safety to the men Roman has hired to protect us.
“Fear” doesn’t even cover the trembling inside my mind.
Chapter Three
Isabella
What have I done?
My keys shake as I open the elegant front door of the library, fatigue tugging at me like the vicious underpull of an oceanic wave.
I had absolutely no sleep last night. After Rafael literally flew away from my apartment, I’ve been a nervous wreck.
And when I say flown away, I mean he flew through the air on massive silver and black wings. It was fucking unbelievable! And if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.
An old memory pulls at me, one that has haunted me through the night, too. I’ve seen things through the years of living in New York. Men that I could have sworn were vampires. One wolf man on a holiday to Canada that had convinced me that werewolves were real. Are angels, or Gargoyles, really too much of a stretch? There are so many things in this world we don’t understan
d.
I manage to open the front door, waving at the security guards already at their posts, at the morning staff situated at various shelves and offices.
As the day wears on, my gaze is tugged to the ancient elevators in the corner of the library. Preferring the stairs that curve up the center of the library that take us up to the second level, I’ve only ever used them to take trolley loads of books up when I first started cataloguing.
But I’ve never gone up to the roof. The third floor. Who did?
My feet start moving before I’ve made the decision. I am just suddenly waiting for the elevator doors to open.
They ding, and I step inside, pushing the third-floor button. My stomach lurches as the elevator ascends and the doors reopen.
Was I seriously doing this?
“Can I help you, ma’am?” An armed security guard that I don’t recognize steps up to me as I try to exit the elevator, blocking my path to the roof.
I knew there were Gargoyles on the roof of the building. I have seen them many times as I have walk up to the library in the morning. But had I bothered to look and see if they are there at night? No.
Those thoughts had tortured me all through the night, and if New York was safer for a female at night, I probably would have walked over here at four AM to check.
“I, ah…” I step out of the lift and let the doors shut behind me.
The man narrows his eyes and doesn’t move.
“I’m Bella. I’m the curator of the library.”
His stance relaxes a little.
“Oh. I’m Teddy. Head of security. Since the vandalism a month ago, we don’t allow anyone on the roof.”
He presses the button to re-call the elevator, but my belly flutters with nerves, pushing me forward.
I shake myself and straighten my spine, trying to ignore the guns hanging from the man’s black belt.
“Could you show me where Rafael is please?”
The man takes a step back, his mouth dropping open.
“Pardon me?”
He probably has orders not to let anyone near the Gargoyles.
“Look, I know you don’t know me. But I met Chrissy and Roman … and Rafael the other day. And Rafael told me what he was, and I didn’t believe him. So. I’m hoping you can help me out. Can you show me which one he is? I’m not armed, I promise.”