by Jasmine Walt
I recognize the engravings right away as runes, but don’t get the significance. I turn the stone over in my hand, and it has that same static feeling the herbs did when I invoked them to cast the glamour spell.
“Where did you get these?” I ask, taking another stone from Hasan’s paw of a hand.
“The roof.”
I lift an eyebrow. “The roof? I don’t—no way. No fucking way.”
Hasan laughs and nods. “Yes.”
Thomas and Gilbert come over, looking at the runes with confusion. I line them up, shaking my head in disbelief.
“How?” I ask, stunned.
“I had a theory,” Jacques starts, coming back over. He puts his hand on his chest, wincing slightly as he moves, and sits down in an armchair across from me. “You brought up a point that made me curious, and after a little investigating, we found them.”
“Investigating?” I question.
“I smashed things and he looked,” Hasan explains.
“What’s going on?” Thomas asks, poking at the runes.
“The stones are what forces you outside every morning,” I say. “So I think that means if I move them to the library, that’s where you’ll go. Right?”
“We think the same,” Hasan says. “And we’ll find out in a few hours.” He reaches into the bag of Chinese takeout. “Are you tired, Ace?”
“A little. I’m off this weekend, so it’s okay. I can stay up until sunrise and make sure you guys are okay.”
“Or you could rest until then and we can wake you up,” Jacques suggests.
“I like that idea.” I push up off the couch and go over to him, pressing my hand to his forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever anymore.”
“That medicine worked,” Jacques says, shaking his head in disbelief. He has a hard time believing in modern medical advancements, just like I had a hard time believing in magic. It’s funny how rooted our beliefs are. It’s a bit eye-opening, really, to experience it firsthand.
I never believed in magic, and it’s still hard for me to wrap my head around. A tiny pill that can cure illness and rid you of fevers would have been considered magic back in Jacques’s day, and he was rightly skeptical.
“You’re supposed to take the antibiotics once a day for a week,” I remind him, carefully pulling the gauze back to look at the wound. “I don’t want you to become septic or anything.”
“What is septic?” Hasan asks.
“Basically blood poisoning. The infection spreads through you, and even with the advancements we have today, it can be life-threatening.”
“I’ll be fine in the morning,” Jacques presses, and he might very well be. I have no idea what’ll happen to the medication in his system when he turns to stone. Still, I’d rather not take any chances. I love Jac with my whole heart and having him wake up sick and weak isn’t happening on my watch.
“Let me clean this,” I say, pulling the rest of the gauze off Jac’s chest. I half expect him to protest, but he nods and gets up, following me into the kitchen. I get the first aid supplies from the bathroom down the hall, and motion to the table. He pulls out a chair and sits.
“I don’t want you to worry,” he says, watching me tear open an alcohol swab. I clean the wound from the center out, and then cover it with antibiotic cream.
“I care, so that’s not possible.” I open up another bandage and press it to his chest. “I do think you’ll be fine. Healing while you sleep is incredible. Maybe I can work it so that aspect of the curse stays with you.”
Jacques doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile. He waits until I finish tending to his wound to take my hand and pull me into his lap. Straddling him, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tip my head down to his, looking him right in the eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, and runs his hands up my back.
“Bullshit. I can tell.”
He presses his lips together and looks away, then brings his gaze up to my breasts, admiring them for a second before inhaling. “Hasan and I are in agreement about this,” he starts, and slides one hand under my shirt, needing to feel my bare skin on his palm.
“About what?”
“You are in danger, Ace.” A line forms between his eyes, and his jaw tenses. “There is someone or something out there who has gone through great lengths to hurt you. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“I know you will.” I bring my arms up and run my hands through Jacques’s hair. “What are you getting at?”
“We’re strong as gargoyles. Able to heal from lethal wounds.” He closes his eyes in a long blink. “Even though we can’t be with you during the day, we both feel we’re better able to offer protection in the form we are.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to break the curse?”
“Not yet. Hasan is a great warrior, and even he would have struggled against the ghouls as a human. We don’t have magic. Once the curse is removed, our powers will go along with it.”
“You’d rather stay like this than be human again?”
“For you, Ace, yes.” He puts his lips to mine, and the emotion I was holding back spills out. A tear rolls down my cheek, landing on Jacques’s chest.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” I say, lips still against Jac’s. “I know how much you want to be human.”
“You’re not asking anything. Let us stay as we are so we can keep you safe, at least for now. I love you,” he says, so softly I almost don’t hear him. “I failed before to protect the ones I loved. You asked why I became a priest: that is why. I won’t fail again, Ace. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Another tear falls, mixing in with our kisses. I feel so much for him right now, for all the guys. They’re so good to me, I almost feel like I don’t deserve any of their affection. Jacques stands, cradling me in his arms as he crosses the kitchen and goes into the library.
Using his foot to close the door behind us, he pushes me up against a bookshelf and kisses me hard.
“My whole life,” he pants between kisses, “I wanted to find someone like you. I wanted to believe in the concept of love and soulmates and husbands and wives. I looked and hoped until my heart became tainted through the sins of those closest to me. And then I gave up.”
He sets me down and unbuttons my pants. My body is reacting to his touch and I’m craving more of it. But my heart wants him as much as the rest of me. I don’t want to just have sex. I want to make love to him, to join together and transcend what we feel.
“And then I met you,” he continues, slowly inching down my pants and underwear at the same time. His fingers brush over my clit and I bring my mouth to his neck, sucking at his skin as he fingers me. I step out of my pants, kicking them aside.
“I gave up on love too,” I moan. “I didn’t let myself get close to anyone because I was scared of getting hurt. You gave me no choice,” I say, tipping my head to his.
“Should I be sorry about that?” He pushes his fingers deeper inside, and my knees weaken.
“Not. At. All.”
I grab Jac’s pants, pulling them down, and drop to my knees. I take his cock in my mouth, sucking him hard. His hand lands on my head, fingers tangling in my hair, and he groans as I run my tongue up and down his shaft. I cup his balls, stopping only when I feel them begin to tighten.
Jacques picks me up and my legs go around him. The wet tip of his cock pushes against my entrance, and in one swift movement, he pushes inside me, pinning my back to the wall. My feet rest against his wings as he thrusts in and out, holding me with ease. I cling to him, overtaken with everything said and done tonight.
He comes only seconds after I do, and we fall back on the couch, both panting. We stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, and my eyes grow heavy.
“Let me carry you upstairs,” he murmurs. “You have some time before sunrise to sleep.”
“Okay.” I hold onto him as he scoops me up, and I forget about his wound u
ntil my cheek rubs against the gauze. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, and he definitely was more than fine a few minutes ago. He lays me down in bed and gets in next to me.
“If this is what being cursed feels like,” he whispers, folding his arms around me, “I’ll stay cursed forever.”
Smiling, heart so full, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, waking a few hours later. Sunlight glows on the horizon, and I hurry out of bed to get dressed and use the bathroom.
The guys are all in the library, holding their runes. It makes me a little sad to know they’re leaving me, but the sense of family I’ve been missing since the day my parents died is starting to come back.
I go right to Hasan and throw my arms around him. Wrapping me in a bear hug, he lifts me off the ground.
“Thank you,” I say once he sets me down.
He kisses my forehead and tips my chin up to his. “You’re worth it, Ace.”
“You’re going to make me cry again, and I hate crying,” I say with a laugh. Looking out at the others, I start to get nervous. “If this doesn’t work, will you know to get to your spots outside in time?”
“I think so,” Hasan answers, but doesn’t sound certain. “I don’t feel compelled to go onto the roof, and I usually do.”
“Same with me,” Thomas and Gilbert answer at the same time.
Nodding, I try to push the nerves away. “You should probably spread out. You guys, uh, take up a lot of room when you’re in stone.”
“Way to make me feel dehumanized,” Gilbert teases, and Thomas elbows him.
“Like you can feel human with those things on your back again.”
“Next time you guys wake up, I’ll have concealment charms for all of you.” I take a step back, looking at the time on my phone. I looked up the exact time of sunrise, and we’re only a minute away. Having the guys inside during the day saves us from a world of possible issues, but having them randomly placed around the library is going to look weird too. They’re heavy as fuck, though not impossible to move.
I direct them each to stand in a corner, making it look more deliberate once they’ve become statues. My heart speeds up and I count down the remaining seconds. I’ve seen them turn to stone before and find it fascinating to watch the transition.
Sunlight streams through the windows behind us, and slowly, their humanity is stripped away as they turn to stone once more. I stand rooted to the spot for a good minute, making sure they don’t crumble apart or start cracking.
They don’t.
“It worked.” I’m beaming, laughing out loud at my disbelief. They’re inside, safe with me. I gather up the stones, intending on safely stashing them with my grimoire. And then it hits me, and the joy is stripped away.
If someone were to get ahold of the runes, they’d have some control over my gargoyles. I have to make sure that doesn’t happen, no matter what.
20
I don’t wake up until eleven-thirty. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel overwhelmed or anxious to start the day. My thoughts aren’t consumed with work and murder, but rather with the guys and everything that’s happened between us. I lounge around in bed for a while, enjoying doing nothing, and then get up and make a cup of coffee.
Taking it onto the back porch, I drink it in silence, admiring the nature around me all in its natural habitat, which is a better way of saying I’ve done shit to the yard. Having lived in apartments my whole adult life, I’m pretty clueless as to what to do with gardening, and I don’t know how to put in any sort of landscaping. The lawn is in desperate need of being mowed, and now that the guys are safely inside, I can call someone out to do it until I get a lawnmower myself.
It’s nice and sunny out this morning, and after I finish my coffee, I bring the grimoire out with me and spend an hour or so studying and practicing magic. Then I fill the rest of the afternoon doing adult things I don’t really want to do but have to anyway, though today I don’t mind grocery shopping, paying bills, and cleaning the bathrooms as much as I usually do.
I’m putting groceries away when my phone buzzes on the counter with a text. I grab it, a little afraid it’s work. I’m enjoying my time off and don’t want to leave when it’s getting closer to sunset. It’s Gemma, and I remember we had plans for tonight.
Gemma: Hey, lady! What movie do you want to see?
Me: I don’t even know what’s playing. You can choose. I’m not picky.
Gemma: What about First Comes Love? It’s a romantic comedy and Aidan Shepherd is in it. I’ll see anything with him in it.
Me: He is easy on the eyes LOL
Gemma: You can bring your boyfriend. Boyfriends? I don’t want you to think I’m judging you or anything! I’m actually jealous. You’re dating hot identical twins…seriously not fair.
Thomas and Gilbert would love to go, and will be thrilled to go out two nights in a row. Is it rude to bring them, though? I’m new to this whole having a female friend thing. We were supposed to go to a movie just the two of us for girl bonding or whatever.
Me: I’ll see if they want to go, but they probably won’t be into a rom-com.
Gemma: Want to grab dinner before? Or after?
Me: Before would be great. What time?
Gemma: There’s a 7:30 showing, so if we eat at 6 that’ll give us plenty of time. I can pick you up.
Me: I live far from the theater. I’ll meet you instead and we can pick a place to eat from there.
Gemma: Sounds good!
I put the phone down and go back to the groceries, looking forward to hanging out with Gemma again, but a little disappointed I won’t be here when the guys wake up. Thomas and Gilbert know about the movie—and encouraged me to go—but I write a note anyway and tape it to the library door.
Feeling sort of bad for entertaining the thought of making them stay in the dark during the day now too, I go into the basement. The library is clean, heated and air conditioned, and homey. But it has windows. And if people came over and went into the library, they’d see my “statues.” The basement is a step up from being outside, right?
It’s safer, that’s for sure.
Turning on a light, I look around, hands on my hips. I haven’t spent much time down here at all. It’s cluttered, with boxes full of crap I need to thoroughly sort through and get rid of once and for all. Knowing that if I put it off again, it’ll never get done, I open the nearest box. I’ve looked in it before, and discarded it when I saw it was full of files and papers. It’s heavy, and the box rips when I try to drag it closer to the old wooden stairs.
“Dammit,” I grumble, and start picking up the papers. And then I notice my great aunt’s name on one of the papers. I sit cross-legged on the floor, quickly sorting through the box. It’s full of documents and receipts, and it seems dear Aunt Mary was a bit OCD with her bookkeeping.
People like this make my job easier.
“Thank you, Aunt Mary,” I say out loud, flipping through a binder labeled HOUSE. She has statements from everything, including taxes, any updates she paid for, and—bingo—the deed. She bought the house the year my mother was born, and it cost a lot of money, even back then. I comb through the rest of the binder, looking for any sort of proof of transaction about the gargoyles, and find nothing.
But I do find a black-and-white picture of the house from the year it was built in the late 1800s. And it doesn’t have gargoyles.
“How did you meet your boyfriends?” Gemma stirs her mojito with the straw. “I need you to teach me your ways.”
I laugh, glad I went over a story in my head on the way here. I’m a good bullshitter, having seen people bullshit and lie while being questioned over and over again. I’ve also realized that the best lies are the simplest, and fucking that up is easier than most think.
“Through work.”
“Right.” She brings her drink to her lips and takes a sip. “You mentioned that. Did you start dating one first? How did the whole dating both at the same time thing happen?”
; I shrug. “It kind of just did.” Which is true. “I went out with Tom first, and then realized I had feelings for Gil as well, and it just kind of went from there.”
“And they’re totally fine with it?”
“It was their idea.”
“Damn, girl.” She shakes her head, laughing. “That is just so unfair. Why didn’t you say anything before when you were talking about your boyfriend?”
Because I wasn’t talking about the twins, but boyfriend number three. “Not everyone is so understanding.”
“Oh, right. I did that whole experimenting thing in college, and the one week I had a girlfriend was really enlightening. People are assholes. Like what does it matter who we’re sleeping with?”
“Exactly. And yeah…people can be assholes.”
“So,” she says, looking down. Her shoulders tense and she gets that look of regret or guilt on her face again. Gemma’s pretty transparent with her emotions, though I have no idea what’s going on right now. “Tell me more about them. Where are they from? They have really interesting accents.”
“Europe.”
“Britain? I can’t place the accent.”
“Yeah. They traveled a lot growing up, so I think their accents were influenced heavily from the time they spent in France.”
“Wow, that’s awesome. I haven’t been out of the US. I’d love to go to France.”
“Yeah, me too.” I don’t want to go alone, though, and thinking of Jacques’s face when he sees what Paris is like now makes me smile.
“Thinking of a romantic getaway?”
“I might be.” I reach for the bread in the middle of the table.
Her phone dings, and she reaches into her purse to read the text message. Her body language shifts again, shoulders tensing as she types back a reply. “So both Tom and Gil work in the same department?”
I know she’s nosey, but she’s prying just a little too much. And she seems uncomfortable.