Page 33 of Married to the Devil

Why keep this room so bland?

The setup is worlds away from my new workshop that has every detail keyed to me.

“Are you just going to stay there all night?” I ask. The gaping emptiness that comes from pouring too much magic into a charm has my body is yearning for a cuddle it sure as hell isn’t going to get.

But once that charm is finished…I shake myself from that line of thought. Just because Stoneheart made some vague comments doesn’t mean he’s suddenly gotten over his jealousy. The charm will just be a fail-safe.

If nothing else, it was a fantastic distraction today. A way to accustom my witch senses to my new space and life.

“Stoneheart asked me to,” he says with a shrug as his eyes travel down the thin fabric of my sleep shorts and loose tee. “The penthouse has protections on it, but that doesn’t stop the people allowed to come and go.”

My nipples take notice of the stroke of his gaze, but I ignore them.

“Like the gossipy Pepper?” I ask. The young Leonid woman hadn’t made eye contact with me before scurrying out the door after setting our dinner plates down. “His expectation is silly. You need to sleep sometime.”

Ben snorts. “I’ll message him before it becomes a problem. You should get some rest.”

I yawn, my body agrees with him. “Watching me sleep is creepy.”

“Only if I enjoy it too much.” The corner of his mouth kicks up.

I blink not expecting the quick reply.

“Well—uh—” I struggle. “Don’t enjoy it too much then.”

What does that even mean?

Before I have a chance to obsess over my awkwardness, the balcony doors shake. The sprawling nerves that have threatened to distract me all day pull tight. The door unlatches as slowly as a horror movie, and Stoneheart steps in.

Unlike the other times I’ve seen him enter a space, his larger-than-life aura is dim tonight. One wing isn’t clasped at his shoulder and is instead extended in a hang. And is he limping?

“Ah, you’re still awake.” He doesn’t sound thrilled by that. His normally growly voice sounds less intense than just this morning.

Fuck. He seems tired. A portion of his skin that isn’t tattooed is darker on his chest, but it’s hard to see in the lamplight. I hit the overhead lights, and my sleepiness evaporates.

Ben hisses in dismay, jumping to his feet.

“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask. Dried blood clings to his skin in the shape of jagged edges.

“Nothing to be concerned about. Just a little fighting.” His tone is cavalier and doesn’t reach me in my rush.

I find the first aid kit I stumbled upon when I was putting away my toiletries this morning. I’d been curious why the kit was so large but had written it off as someone being over-prepared. As I bring it to Stoneheart, he sits heavily on the end of the bed.

“I just said it’s fine.” But his growl lacks any real fire. The marks on his chest start to make sense in my brain. They’re from claws.

He narrows his eyes at where I’m frozen with the kit. My stomach turns at the sight of blood. One of the lower cuts beads with fresh red. “Have you ever patched anyone up?”

“…No.” I hand the first aid kit to Ben who snorts but opens the kit with practiced competency. Of course, Ben knows first aid. He removes some gauze and douses it with alcohol.

“They’ll be fine by morning,” Stoneheart says, inching away from Ben.

“Don’t be a baby. I doubt you want your skin healing over any pieces of someone else’s claws,” Ben mutters and presses the astringent smelling pad against the claw marks. Stoneheart makes a snarly sound but cuts it off with a glare at Ben. There’s some sort of tension between them, and Ben gentles in his task with a swallow. “Stella, hand me the saline. I’ll flush the wounds out.”

I do as he asks and observe the unusual way Stoneheart is holding himself. I peer around his back and gasp at the double set of deep scratches on one of his wings.

“I thought gargoyles could heal by stone-sleeping,” Ben says.

“That would be true of most gargoyles. I’m not full-blooded. I’ve always suspected that if I were to stone sleep, I’d never wake up,” Stoneheart says with his eyes closed and head tilted back as if he wants the both of us to disappear and leave him in his current state.

---