Page 58 of Monsters in Love

“What in the world does that mean?” Do I have some sort of gargoyle servant at my behest? Because that’s just…weird.

“It’s a long story,” he says.

I gesture to the stairs. “Then let’s go to the kitchen for some tea.” I’d prefer wine, but I don’t need to make this headache any worse. Maybe tea will at least calm me down and help me feel better. “You can tell me everything.”

LUCIEN

Iwatch the new Winslow girl as she makes tea. She’s nothing like Celeste, the last Winslow I knew. Celeste was rather prim, with short hair and a terse manner. This one is young and pretty, with long curls the color of dark honey, and wide blue eyes and freckles that lend an air of innocence to her appearance. But the way she faced me down upstairs suggests a certain amount of steel in her spine. She also strikes me as talkative. Not my favorite trait in a human. Not that I have many—humans are irritating.

She glances over her shoulder at me. “Want some? It’s valerian root.”

I shake my head. “No,merci.”

She turns and leans back against the counter, arms folded across her chest. “Do you even drink tea? Or eat? I didn’t know gargoyles were real before tonight, so I don’t know much about your kind. I mean, obviously, the ones on buildings are technically real, but I meant, like, real living beings. I’m assuming there are more of you, right? Like a gargoyle species? Although, aren’t you a grotesque rather than a gargoyle? Or do you have a water spout I haven’t noticed?”

I blink at her chatter. “Ah,” I say, fumbling in an uncharacteristic manner. I usually know exactly what to say, but then again, I’m rarely bombarded with so many questions at once. Further, I haven’t spoken to anyone in…well, it must be decades at this point. I’m rather out of practice.

“I can eat if I choose to, but I’m fine at the moment. Yes, gargoyles are a species, though there aren’t many of us here in North America. No, I do not have a spout—your architects simply got the name wrong.”

“What do you mean?” She gives me a curious look, her blue eyes large and intrigued.

I sigh. “We creatures who inhabit the eaves and serve as protectors for families and buildings have always been gargoyles. But there was some confusion—in a translation, I suppose—that misnamed us as grotesques. We are all gargoyles, regardless of the rainspout. Someone may have found us grotesque in appearance and named us that as an insult. I neither know nor care.”

“Huh.” She nods. “That’s interesting. I’d like to know more about gargoyle history. Where you all come from, how many of you there are, that kind of thing. Do you have families? Tribes? Clans? I have so many questions.”

I frown. Is there no limit to her curiosity? “We are a private species. We prefer not to share our stories with those not of our kind.”

“Um, okay.” She wrinkles her nose. “Kinda rude, but whatever.”

“I do not mean to be rude. It is simply our way.”

The kettle whistles and she turns back to the stove to finish preparing her tea. “Anyway,” she says. “What’s the deal with you being…what did you say? Bound to the house?”

“Yes. How much do you know about the history of the manor? Or the Winslow family? Mary Winslow in particular.”

She joins me at the table and blows on her tea. “Pretty much nothing. I didn’t grow up around here, because my mom is the ‘footloose and fancy-free’ type. We moved around a lot. Until today, I hadn’t set foot in this house in close to twenty years.” She shrugs. “Can’t say I’m much of a genealogy nerd.”

“And Celeste never told you about me or the curse?”

She leans forward, eyebrows raised. “Curse? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. Tell me everything!”

I sigh again. “It’s not some romantic story. I was born in a small village in France, and I was initially affixed to the tiny cathedral there. When it was deconsecrated and torn down, the part of the building I was attached to was shipped here. Mary Winslow had purchased it for the home she was constructing. This was in 1796.”

“You’ve been here since the beginning, then?”

I nod. “Yes. Once Mabon Manor was built, I officially became the protector of the home, and by default, the family within it. But I failed in my duties and was cursed as a result. It’s my own poor luck that I happened to be watching over a family of witches.”

“Wait, go back. You’re a living being. How can you be physically attached to a building?”

“You truly know nothing about gargoyles?”

She shakes her head cheerfully. “Not a damn thing. Believe me, meeting you gave me the fright of my life. But now that you’re not being all scary, I have to admit you’re kind of fascinating. Tell me all the things.”

“Well, while it’s true that I am alive, I am only mobile when the sun is set. During the day, I am stone. This is true for all of my kind. When my clan assigned me to the cathedral, the builders affixed me in my stone state. I was able to move around at night, of course, but was bound to my post during the day. The same still holds true all these years later, but with this building instead.”

“So you only ‘come to life,’ so to speak, at night?” She makes air quotes with her fingers.

I shrug. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

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