Page 67 of Monsters in Love

“Do you think you could break it?” Luc asks.

“Probably, if it’s a simple disenchantment. Of course, I won’t know for sure until we find the heartstone. And I don’t have any idea where to look for that.”

He looks at me helplessly. “I’ve been searching since the day Mary died. I have turned the manor upside down. Perhaps it is enchanted to be invisible.”

“Ugh, maybe. That would make things harder. Let’s put that on the backburner for a second. Finding the heartstone won’t matter if the house sells and you end up crumbling to dust, all because of that shithead Chad Alder.”

“Who?”

I huff. “Chad Alder. Local property developer. And my ex. And a world-class dickbag.”

“I take it he broke your heart?”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s not be dramatic. I was young and didn’t understand heartbreak. But yes, he hurt me in more ways than one.”

Luc frowns, his handsome features turning grim. “Maybe the solution is to simply remove this Chad Alder from the equation. If he is not around to buy the property, the problem is solved. Besides, if he hurt you in the past, this would be a form of protecting you. That is my job.”

I stare at him. “What exactly are you proposing?”

He shrugs in a remarkably elegant, Gallic gesture. “Whatever it takes to…discouragehim.” He flashes his fangs in an unsettling smile.

“You’re not talking about killing him, are you?” I ask warily.

“Not if we don’t have to. But no sense in taking it off the table if it is our only resort. It would be an efficient solution.”

“Luc!” I shriek. “We are not killing anyone!”

“You humans,” he says with a sniff. “So sensitive.”

“You gargoyles,” I counter. “So bloodthirsty.”

“Not at all. We are simply not bound by human laws and sensibilities. We do what must be done. And stop calling me Luc.”

“Look, if there’s a way to get rid of Chad that doesn’t involvemurder, I’m all for it,” I say. “But that doesn’t necessarily fix the problem. Someone else could buy the property and tear everything down. We need to either adjust the timeline of Celeste’s spell or find a way to raise a ton of money in a matter of days.”

“Have it your way,” he mutters.

“You know what?” I say, standing. “It’s been a really long day and I’m tired. I’m going to bed, and I’m going to start fresh in the morning. Or maybe sleep in and plan to work through the night with you. I’m not sure. All I know is that I’ll work better once I’ve had some sleep.”

“D’accord. This sounds like a sensible course of action. Like something a gargoyle would do,” he says pointedly. “Bonne nuit, Anya.”

“Call me Annie,” I say over my shoulder as I leave, mostly because I know it will annoy him. Something I’m very much starting to enjoy.

Annie

Ispend the next seven days cleaning and organizing, as well as casting “reveal” spells in each room in case Luc’s invisible heartstone theory is correct. No success on that front. In the evenings, Luc and I pore through the library, searching for answers to both our problems. Although we’re getting along well enough, settling into a companionable rhythm and verbally poking at each other, our success rate is crap. Since nothing is forthcoming in the library books, I decide to tackle the trunks before we run out of time.

After my morning cleaning binge and final “de-invisibilize” attempt, I shift my focus to getting some decent lighting in the attic. I finally track down the breaker box that controls it, which helps, and then I drag a couple of standing lamps up there as well. If Luc is right about there being trunks of books up here, one or both of us is going to need to go through them.

I dust my hands off on my jeans and wander over to the large window that Luc must use as an entrance and exit. I can’t see him from here—he’s perched above me—but from here I can take in the view he gets every day before he turns to stone. This spot provides an excellent view of the hedge maze; when it was in good shape, this was probably a cool shot, since it’s essentially an aerial perspective. But the maze is tragic now, so overgrown that the lines are no longer clear. It’s a shame, because it’s one of the coolest features of the property. But probably not one I can keep.

The idea of getting the grounds in order is overwhelming; dealing with the house is intense enough. I should probably take out the maze entirely and put in something else. A formal garden? A tennis court? A pool?

Probably not a pool, since I wouldn’t want to deal with the liability of having guests at the B&B drown or anything. But using the space for something visitors could enjoy might be a great idea. Something lower maintenance than a giant-ass hedge maze that would require almost daily trimming and shaping.

Ooh, maybe an herb garden. Then I could make my own tisanes for the guests. That could be fun. I give the maze one last look and then return to the trunks to see which ones have books in them.

“Holy crap,” I mutter when I’m done with my survey. “Twelve? Twelve trunks of books? Dammit, Winslows. Why do we love reading so much?”

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