Page 10 of Howl for the Gargoyle

"Can he get away, if he needs to?" I asked.

"He can. Gargoyles are nearly impenetrable, and they're exceptionally strong, although he won't use that strength unless you ask him to. Trust me, your partner is prepared, trustworthy, and skilled. You are safe with him," she said.

I glanced down at the pretty marble table between us.

"And he is perfectly safe with you," she added, softly.

My shoulders drooped slightly. I was torn between racing to the elevators to take them up to the apartment where I'd meet this gargoyle, and curling up on this silly velvet settee for a cry and a nap.

"Here's your monitor," Astraeya said, setting a small wristband down on the table between us.

I'd been assigned an alert word if I needed to contact an outside agent and interrupt the appointment. There'd be every security measure and precaution that left the control of the appointment in my hands. She’d described them to me several times.

It just wasn't my own safety I was worried about.

Gargoyles are made of stone. MSA knows what it's doing, I reminded myself. That's why you're here.

I reached for the wristband and slid it into place.

"I can take you up now, or if you'd like a drink first—"

I shook my head. "Is it… Can I…go up on my own?" I didn't dislike this woman, but I wasn't sure how I'd fare stuck in an elevator with her. I wanted to be calm as I approached my appointment, not simmering with irrational aggression.

Astraeya paused, pressing her lips shut and considering. She glanced down at her tablet, eyes narrowing slightly. Maybe it was a rule that guests had to be escorted, so they didn't interrupt anyone else, or find themselves in a place they didn't belong.

"I think that would be fine," she said at last, pulling a thin plastic card out of her pocket, with a glossy back and a hint of metallic glimmer. "Room 1603."

I flinched as I reached for the key card. 1630. 1603. Did they… No, it was just an ugly coincidence. The card was cold against my fingertips.

"I'll send the number to your wristband so you don't forget," Astraeya said, mustering a smile for me.

I bit my tongue against the urge to answer. I wasn't likely to forget.

Succubi could sense arousal in others, but I wondered if the same was true about other emotions. Could she taste my anger, my desire to lash out or to run? I lifted my bag from the floor as Astraeya rose from her seat.

"I hope you have a wonderful time, Hannah. MSA is on hand at any time if you need anything."

"Thank you," I forced out, and she nodded, backing out of the way, giving me plenty of room to walk past her.

My spine was painfully stiff as I moved, the vulnerability of having someone at my back scratching at all my overstimulated instincts.

"You'll have fun," she called as I marched toward the hall with the tidy line of elevators.

The words were confident, and there was a friendly glitter in those gemstone violet eyes as I glanced back. She was petite and beautiful, wearing sky-high heels and a silky wrap dress. My brain couldn't make up its mind on whether she was friend or foe. I nodded once and made my escape.

The tiled walls of the hallways reflected a darker version of myself back at me, flecked with copper and brass. The interior of this not-quite hotel was luxurious, a blend of dark art deco and mid-century modern, with crisp metal details and a romantically deep color palette—a clear message of glamor and class to reassure clients or oppose any negative stereotypes. If I'd been less full of nerves, less wound up by the half-hour meeting with the succubus, I might've appreciated it more. Instead, what I appreciated was the readily available and blessedly empty elevator on the ground floor.

Polished brass doors slid shut behind me, and I closed my eyes before I could get a look at myself. I knew what I would see: a haggard and pale woman, clothes slightly askew from fussing with fabrics that felt all wrong on my skin today, long dark hair in tangles from the Chicago wind.

At least that I could fix. I combed my fingers through the strands, taking grateful breaths of the clean, still air.

Be calm. Breathe.

The ride was smooth and over too soon, a gentle chime rousing me before the purring mechanics of the doors opening. I stared at the empty hall, its wallpaper a shade of wine or black cherry, and nearly let the doors shut again before lunging forward, dragging my bag along with me. I'd brought a change of clothes and a bottle of wine, although I wasn't entirely sure why. Was it a gift for my 'partner,' or potential consolation for me if this went awry?

A discreet plaque on the wall offered directions between the four apartments on this floor, guiding me down a brief hall. I stood in front of the door, allowing my heightened hearing to eavesdrop. Nothing. Quiet. I had the key card in my hand, now slightly sweaty, but I was resisting the urge to knock on the black door in front of me.

Then there was a clink from inside, like porcelain or metal, and a quietly muttered "Shit!"

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