Page 8 of Fire in Stone

My shoulder bumped into the crate as I bent over to grab my bag from the floor. I turned to face the word “gargoyle”printed on the side of it.

Curiosity stirred in me. What could possibly cost as much as the buyer was paying for this thing?

Forgetting about my bag for the time being, I inspected the crate. It was made from plywood reinforced with lumber that emitted a faint pleasant smell I couldn’t quite place, but it felt familiar—something like moss and lavender, with a hint of pineapple sweetness.

The metal hinge on the top of the crate had a simple padlock—too plain for something as valuable as Chris had assured me the statue was.

Suspicion grew in my chest, agitating doubt. I’d never fully trusted Chris, now less than ever. Lifting my hand, I yanked out the bobby pin that held back my overgrown bangs, then rose on my tiptoes to get a better look at the padlock. I had to see for myself what I’d been risking my life for.

It took me just a few seconds to open the padlock with my bobby pin. Definitely not the level of security I’d expect from a high-value package.

When I popped the top open, the four walls fell aside, revealing the inside of the crate. The dark statue was enveloped in clouds of heavy, silvery-white smoke that smelled like perfume or a cologne.

Now I remembered why the scent was familiar. The menagerie at the fair where Chris had taken me smelled just like that, too. The fragrant incense had burned in metal braziers inside the tents. Madame Tan, the owner of the establishment, even smoked it as a cigarette, which was odd but kind of fit in with the overall vibe of that place.

I recalled briefly seeing the statue there, too. It had stood between the two main exhibition rooms inside the tents, shrouded in smoke just as it was right now. Madame hadn’t spent much time at it during our tour. She’d just mentioned it, leading us from one room to the other. It’d been dark in the small passage between the canvas walls. I hadn’t even gotten a good look at the statue back then.

The fragrant smoke must’ve been Madame’s way to make the menagerie smell nice, but why was it in the crate now?

“What the hell?” I picked up a bundle of smoldering leaves from the bottom of the crate. There were several more scattered around the statue.

Why would anyone fumigate a statue in transit? Especially one transported in a wooden crate?

I shook my head. “These could cause a fire.”

Good thing I discovered this before going to bed. Burning to death in my sleep was not the way I wished to leave this world.

I collected all the smoking bundles from the crate. By running water over the leaves, I put the smoke out, then tossed the soggy bundles in the garbage.

The smoke dissipated, revealing a statue carved from black stone.

The word“gargoyle”had made me think of something scary, ugly, or both. But this was a depiction of an extraordinarily handsome man sitting on a slab of granite. Two leathery wings on his back were half-open. The obsidian rock shimmered inside when the light hit it at just the right angle. The effect was mesmerizing—as if life pulsed inside the stone.

Having relatively little experience with art, even I could tell this was no ordinary piece. The details were incredible. The man was shirtless, leaving every smooth dip and rise of his muscular torso on display. Every vein on his strong forearms was detailed to perfection.

Unable to take my eyes off of him, I stepped closer. The master sculptor somehow managed to recreate even the finest details, like the stubble over the man’s chiseled jaw, or the thick eyelashes shading his eyes. If I stared long enough, I believed I could even see into the depth of his pupils.

Enthralled, I placed my hand on the side of his face. The stone felt warm to the touch, almost lifelike. The stubble on his cheek prickled my hand, bringing me back to my senses. I jerked my hand away.

Why on earth would I caress a statue? Stress and exhaustion must’ve screwed with my head.

“I need a shower…”

Leaving the statue alone, I took off my bra and underwear, then ducked behind the shower curtain and turned on the water.

The gaze of the stone-carved eyes, however, appeared to follow me even here. My skin prickled with awareness. The air in the room suddenly felt too hot, and I turned up the cold water in my shower to help me cool off.

My skin puckered with goosebumps. My nipples hardened. A tingly ache rushed through my lower belly. I quickly shampooed my hair, trying to ignore my body’s reactions.

What was it reacting to, anyway? The piece of rock? Just because it happened to be shaped like the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen?

It was ridiculous. The lingering adrenaline from the stressful day somehow must’ve made me horny. That or it’d just been too long since I’d had sex with a man. And even longer since I’d actually enjoyed it.

Three

ELEX

The sound of running water filtered through the fog that shrouded his awareness.

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