Page 24 of A Highland Gargoyle's Lucky Star
—Guardians of the Line: A Hidden History,by Dr. Targan Wildethorne
When I catch thewee slip of a man an instant before he hits the ground, my heart damn near stops. That was too bloody close for comfort.
Darghan and Zar manage to save the other man, who hangs unconscious between them.
“We’ll take him to the nearest hospital,” Zar says.
“Get as much information as you can from him when he wakes.” I stare pointedly at the syringe sticking out of the man’s chest.
“On it.” Darghan gives a jaunty salute and they fly off with the human in tow.
As I soar higher into the sky, the man in my arms pinches his cheek hard.
“Ow!”
I frown.
“Wow. So this is real?” His words come out a bit slurred, and he looks up at me with honey-brown eyes that ensnare me for a moment. “I was almost a goner, wasn’t I?” His nervous laughter signals some awareness as to how close he came to death.
I nod.
“You saved me though.”“Aye.”
“You’re a man of few words, I see,” he mumbles. Then he smiles at me and hiccups. “Not that I’m not grateful,” he slurs, “but who the heck are you?
I sniff at an overpowering whiff of beer, but it doesn’t conceal the deeper, stronger scent that marks him as a Conduit.
“My name is Elryk,” I tell him, keeping my voice at a low rumble. “I’ll explain everything when I get you to safety.”
He sighs dreamily. “I’m sort of loving this princess-carry moment you have happening right now. Totally romantic, like something out of one of those Highland warrior romances my mom used to read.” He puts a finger to his lips. “Sshh! Don’t tell anyone, but I also used to sneak them when she wasn’t looking and read them too. Especially the sex scenes.” He winks at me in such an exaggerated manner that it almost makes me laugh.
He pouts. “Except it turns out she knew the whole time! Moms—hic—amirite?”
By the Light, I can’t remember the last time I was so drawn to someone after a first meeting. Must be his powers as a Conduit messing with my head.
“What’s your name?”
He beams at me. “Thought you’d never ask. Noah—hic—Noah Price.” He tries to shake my hand but I can’t while I have him firmly held in my arms.
Noah harrumphs and drops his hand. “Where are we going?
“Somewhere safe,” I tell him vaguely.
“A man of…hic… mystery, huh?” He nods to himself. “M’kay, long as you promise no needles.”
“What?”
“No needles,” he repeats, waving his finger at me. “Don’t like ’em, and that weird guy on the train tried to stab me with one.”
My blood runs cold with fear and then hot with fury. “He tried to inject you with something?”
Must have been whatever was in the syringe hanging from his chest.
Noah nods. “Total douche, right?” He squirms a fist from my hold and raises it. “But he…hic… underestimated me. I might be small, but I’m scrappy. After all, I’m from Chicago.” Then the fist drops and touches the side of his head. “That jerk did manage…hic… to get a good punch in. But I got my own back and then some.” He chortles as if in recollection, but the chortle ends in a tired sigh.
Meanwhile, I’m fuming. Noah’s a small man with a slight, almost delicate build. How dare that creep hurt him.
“The greasy bastard,” I growl.
