Page 79 of Monsters in Love

His hips are pistoning under me, pushing us hard and fast, with nothing slow or sweet about this. I tip my head back and moan, lost in all the sensations. He takes advantage, locking teeth and lips against my neck, getting the sensitive spot just above my shoulder. I don’t understand why I always come when he bites my neck, but it happens every time, and this is no exception.

I stop fighting the orgasm and let it take me under, drowning in the pleasure of it. It hits me in powerful waves that make my whole body clench as my clit pulses with it again and again. Just when I think it’s about to wear off, Luc shifts beneath me, a grinding new angle that makes me shudder with pleasure.

“Fuck,” I moan, collapsing against his chest as I ride the waves.

He growls with approval and tips over with me, swelling even bigger inside of me as his own orgasm rips through us both.

When I catch my breath, I lift my head and meet his gaze. “Honestly, I think we get better at that every time.”

He huffs a little laugh. “I think you might be right.” He gives my butt a squeeze and I feel him twitch to life inside me, a quick recovery one of the impressive features of his gargoyle physiology. “Let’s do it again and make sure.”

LUCIEN

Iwatch the sun’s slow march across the sky, appreciating the cascade of colors it paints on the horizon. I’ve come to appreciate a lot in recent weeks, finding small pleasures in things as simple as a sunset or a purring cat.

I give all the credit to Annie. Before she arrived, I was barely living my life, singularly devoted to breaking my curse. And yet, I had no real plan for what I might do if I succeeded. Return to France, yes, but then what? I am a gargoyle, suited to one purpose and one purpose alone. I would simply have been assigned to some other building, perhaps some other family.

Life would not have been so different, save for the view from my perch. Who knows where I would have been stationed? Here, I’m pleased to look at the maze. It has a new meaning to me now; it is the place of my salvation.

My thoughts turn to France again, and if I could shake my head, I would. I have no idea if my village still exists, or where my friends and family are. For all I know, the entirety of my clan might have been shipped away to various continents. There is no way to know what might await me back in Europe, but I have been fixated on returning for so long that I never stopped to consider these things.

Here, I know exactly what I have: what the Americans call “a new lease on life.” A woman I adore, a newfound sense of purpose, a joy in living rather than merely existing.

The sun sinks below the horizon, and I rise from my crouch and slip inside the window. I don’t know what the future holds, or whether Annie will ever be able to return my heartstone, but even if she does, one thing is certain: This is where I belong.

ANNIE

I’m sitting in the library, waiting for Luc to reanimate and puzzling over his heartstone. It’s resting on the table in front of me, along with a pile of books. Finding it was the first major hurdle, but not the last one. I still have to reinsert it into his body and figure out how to undo the spell that was placed on him.

The cats followed me, curling up in their usual spots: Snicket in a far armchair and Biscuit in the middle of the table, where he can supervise.

I start with a crumbling old book I found at the bottom of one of the trunks. It’s labeled as the journal and grimoire of Mary Winslow, so it seems like the best place to find answers about her magic.

I flip through, searching for the night of the attack and Mary’s response to it. If she wrote anywhere about the curse, it would be here. I finally land on a passage that catches my eye.

The men who came that night will be punished, by one means or another. There are spells that would suffice, but I suspect Lucien will take matters into his own hands. His remorse over the loss of Alice is plain, but I find I cannot forgive him any more than I can forgive John Marshall, Elias Smith, Josiah Alder, Jacob Adams, Edwin Gray and Robert Turner.

The name Josiah Alder leaps out at me. I’d bet dollars to one of Libra Cartwright’s magical donuts that he’s an ancestor of Chad’s. Which means that family has been fucking with mine for centuries. I don’t know what Lucien and Mary did to those men, but they deserved it. And Chad got his too. Ugh, good riddance.

I keep reading, but the next few passages are about craft.

It has been my experience that bloodstones such as garnets and rubies work best for binding rituals, while sea stones (aquamarines and the like) are beneficial when treating ailments of the lungs. Earthstones such as diamonds and quartz are useful for purifying and blessing the land, ensuring healthy crops and a bountiful harvest. Poultices with sage help to purify the body, while rosemary and mint may be used to draw out infections. I find that both amethyst and lavender temper ailments of the mind.

It goes on for a few pages, her personal Wiccapedia. Interesting enough, I guess, but nothing I couldn’t find in any basic spellbook. Unfortunately, I don’t find anything about the specific curse she placed on Luc. With a sigh, I set the book aside and try the next one. I’m still reading it when Luc makes his appearance. He sits down next to me and I lean close, letting him drape an arm across my shoulders and inhaling the scent of him. It’s deep and woodsy, but also aromatic, like pine trees and coffee.

“I’m researching your curse,” I say. “Nothing yet, but I’m just getting started. It would be a lot easier if she could have just forgiven you. Or if I could do it for her.”

“Annie,” Luc says slowly. “How long has that been happening?”

“Hmm?” I look up and see him staring at his heartstone on the table. The stone that is now glowing with an eerie red light.

“Whoa,” I say. “That’s new.”

“No idea what caused it?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t cast any spells, so it’s nothing I did. It’s glowing all on its own. Tell me again what Mary said about the curse? The only way to break it?”

“Just that I would be cursed until I saved her daughter and earned her daughter’s forgiveness. But of course, I couldn’t save Alice. And Abigail never forgave me, either. She grew up poisoned by her mother’s bitterness.”

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