Page 13 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But it rides in the trunk. I won’t have it roaming free in my car.”

“She,” I correct. “And no way. Minx needs to sit on my lap during drives or she gets carsick.” I pause as his eyes flash dangerously, worried I’ve gone too far. “I’ll… I’ll sit in the back with her.”

I shift uncomfortably as I realize that essentially would make Graeme my chauffeur. It’s obnoxious, asking him to drive while I lounge in the backseat like some sort of diva. But I stand my ground.

Graeme throws his hands up, clearly exasperated and disapproving. “Fine. If that beast damages the upholstery, you’re paying for it.”

He snatches my bags and stomps off towards the car.

I trail after him, feeling Minx turn in circles, bumping her carrier against my back. This is going to be one long, awkward drive. But it will all be worth it to stand beside Mariah on her big day.

I just hope Graeme and I don’t kill each other before we get there.

The hours-long driveto Elderberry Falls stretches out before us, the silence in the car thick and stifling. I fidget in the backseat.

Minx is purring contentedly in my lap. At least one of us is having fun. The quiet grates on my nerves, my skin itching with the need to fill the void with chatter.

I find my gaze drawn to the rearview mirror, to the reflection of Graeme’s chiseled profile. His eyes are fixed on the road, his jaw set in a tense line. His hands grip the steering wheel, the corded muscles of his forearms flexing with every minute adjustment.

A sudden urge overtakes me, a bizarre impulse to reach out and smooth the crease of his brow, or try to coax a smile from those stern, unyielding lips. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the intrusive thought.

Desperate for a distraction, I decide to attempt conversation. “So, have you ever been to Elderberry Falls before?” I ask brightly.

“No.” His response is curt, clipped.

Undeterred, I press on. “Are you from a magical town?”

“No.”

“Do you usually guard humans or magical beings?”

“Humans.”

I frown. Getting more than single word answers from him is like pulling teeth. I try a different approach.

“How long have you been a bodyguard? What got you into this line of work?”

“Years.” Graeme replies, his gaze never wavering from the road ahead. “Family business.”

I bite back a scream of frustration, my fingers curling into fists. I’m used to people opening up to me, to easy smiles and flowing conversation. I never have to work this hard to get someone talking. His terse responses and stony demeanor throw me off balance, leaving me wrong-footed and agitated.

After a few more attempts to draw him out, each met with grunts or monosyllabic answers, I give up. If he wants to marinate in silence, then fine.

Two can play at that game.

I turn to stare moodily out the window, watching trees streak past as we leave the human lands, and then the familiar scenery of Elderberry Falls comes into view. As we cross the town border, the tension starts to melt from my shoulders, a wave of nostalgia washing over me.

The quaint buildings are awash in a riot of colors, like a box of crayons came to life. The air shimmers with enchantment, wisps of magic curling and dancing through the streets.

Each storefront sparks cherished memories in my mind.

There’s the Crooked Broom, where Mariah and I shared our first tankard of elderberry ale. Spellbound Bookshop, where I’ve spent countless hours lost in fantastical tales, trying to decide which of the beautiful tomes to take home with me. The Hungry Minotaur, which serves the best pumpkin spice muffins in any realm.

Every cobblestone, every shingle, every flower box is woven into the fabric of my being.

Elderberry Falls isn’t just my hometown—it’s my anchor. My true north. No matter how far I roam, the magic of this place will always call me home.

As we wind through the familiar streets, my spirits lift. The stalker, the tension with Graeme… it all seems to matter less here, like a sound that was a dull roar fading into a soft hum.

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