Page 9 of Howl for the Gargoyle

Nightlight was packed. Elias was right, it was doing great. I wondered why he bothered even looking for work with MSA when it was obvious he could survive on his businesses alone.

I squirmed on the outrageously comfortable bar stool, keeping my wings tucked close so they didn't take up too much room in the crowded bar, and tried to fight down the jealousy burning through me as I watched Elias scoot past the bartenders and head in my direction. His bar offered more room for the employees, I noted. For his wings. Even my own would fit behind the massive bar top our friend Khell had built.

"Repeat the question," Elias said, setting down the tray of pub food I'd ordered and a drink I definitely hadn't.

"How do you go about…making your clients, uh…aroused?" I asked, and it wasn't any easier to get out for being the second time he'd made me ask.

Maybe the drink would help. I grabbed the glass and took a quick and full swallow, my eyes widening as I trapped a cough in my chest, the alcohol scorching its way down into my belly.

I gasped as the alcohol settled. "What the hell was that? Gasoline?"

"Ghost Pepper moonshine," Elias answered, lips twitching. "You passed the challenge. Your tab is on the house."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but the alcohol did have a curious reaction in me. I didn't get drunk without a lot of effort, but the burn of the pepper mimicked the warmth most people might feel from a good whiskey.

"How have you been at MSA for almost a decade without taking a course in seduction?" Elias asked.

I rolled my eyes. "I have taken them…years ago. But mostly I have to focus on stunt work, self-defense, and role playing." Elias blinked, and I shrugged, helping myself to a fried spicy pork egg roll. "You have your work, and I have mine."

"Right. Well, make conversation, but not too much. You should mainly be listening," Elias said, eyes tipping up in thought. "Compliments are good if she responds positively to them, but you want to invite touch. Initiate it slowly or casually at first."

I thought of the image of the forearms and flexed my own on the bar top, studying myself in a way I hadn't in years. Were my arms and hands attractive? Or too big?

"Make eye contact. If she's uncomfortable, back off. If she's enjoying herself, move forward." Elias shrugged. "There's a higher art to seduction, but I can't imagine Astraeya would match you with someone who would pose that much of a challenge."

"She's a new werewolf," I admitted, and Elias scoffed.

"There you have it then. Your clothes will be shredded within minutes. What are you worried about?"

I nodded along, saving myself the trouble of speaking by eating the feast Elias had left in front of me. He was probably right. Astraeya liked us to be prepared and cautious, and it was her job to be thoughtfully protective of the clients. But I'd worked with werewolves before, especially around the full moon, and seduction hadn't played much of a factor. Even if it did now, I wasn't a complete amateur. I was a trained professional. Everything would be fine.

I winced into the icy bite of Chicago's night, flying toward downtown instead of home. Night flying in Chicago could be treacherous, the wind brutal and surprising, but I liked the challenge, and I'd only ever slightly damaged a piece of architecture, with no one the wiser about the chipped facade. I swept my wings out, coasting well above the halting traffic on Kinzie Street toward the high clock tower of the Wrigley Building.

Gargoyles liked good architecture—it was in our slow-moving blood—and Chicago had some of the best in the country. I'd grown up in New York in the highest apartment my parents could afford in Queens, but I hadn't caught my breath in a city until I'd moved to Chicago. I didn't know if it was the ever present weight of the lake to the east, or the sly and deceptively friendly energy of the city, or the diverse range of rich architecture, but I’d known the first day that I'd found my home.

My wing hooks caught onto the ledge of the clock tower, and I climbed up, pausing to catch my breath and give the sore joint of the right wing a moment of rest. I could see my destination from here, facing northeast, glaring down glittering Michigan Avenue to my favorite building in the world.

Tribune Tower, crowned golden against the dark rust sky, winter clouds stained with the light of the city at night. The building knew its best feature, lit it up like a beacon at night, calling to a creature like me. I rolled my shoulders and my neck, stretching and contracting my wings. I wasn't allowed up here, but the city had better things to do than chase down winged species who helped themselves to the best views of the city without paying the tourist fees. I just needed to make sure I didn't linger.

I bent my knees, leaping hard into the air, snapping my wings wide. Chicago didn't disappoint, wind catching and thrusting me backwards. I grinned at the force. It was hard to budge a gargoyle, but the lake's weather always made a good effort. I beat my wings, and then the Windy City and I were in cooperation, harmony in flight. Five minutes in the peaks of the Tribune Tower—one of the condos that faced the lake that was almost always unoccupied, neglected by its owner—and then I'd be on my way again. Maybe ten minutes.

Maybe fifteen.

CHAPTER 4

Hannah

The woman sitting in the velvet armchair across from me was exceptionally pretty, with moon-pale skin and pink hair and wild violet eyes. She had petite horns and exquisite bone structure and a pair of lips women would pay a great deal of money for. I'd never met a succubus before, and this one was doing her best to put me at ease, but I found myself fighting the urge to unleash my claws and scratch them over that pristine skin.

I wasn't sure if it was sexual interest raging through me, or an aggressive response to a threat, but I wanted to escape her presence immediately. If this was any indication of how my "appointment" was going to go, it might be time to cancel.

"Your partner today is a gargoyle. He might look vulnerable in his flesh form, but it will put you on even footing with him. You can scratch, but you can't do any harm, and he's worked with werewolves before," Astraeya said.

I nodded and glanced at the vast windows to my right. The downtown MSA location was a cross between an upscale hotel and an apartment building. Astraeya and I sat together in an unoccupied lobby bar on street level, and the Chicago work denizens were pouring out of their offices and marching down the sidewalks just feet away from us. But the windows were mirrored—we couldn't be seen.

"I've updated your file, but do you have any questions for me?" Astraeya asked.

My head was scattered. The full moon was only two days away, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was nervous or this moon was going to be worse than the last, but all my instincts and cravings were running wild.

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