Page 8 of Let Go My Gargoyle
She narrowed her eyes, a very adult look on her cherub-like face, but she tentatively mimicked his action until the tips of her fingers brushed against his.
He gasped and had to resist grabbing her hand so that he could be certain. Not that he needed to.
“Gods above, you’re a Daughter of Light.”
No wonder her parents had needed protection. Her mother would also have been one of those precious and exceedingly rare witches who had the ability to destroy the warlocks intent upon wiping out their kind. How had he missed that four years ago?
In Penelope’s case, her powers hadn’t yet manifested since she’d been so young at the time. And in the case of her mother, well, that one was on Griffin. He’d never been particularly good at being a gargoyle. Which was why he was so baffled by Oliver’s insistence that he join the New Orleans brethren.
Did Oliver know about Penelope? He had to. Why else would he have sent Griffin here to protect her? Although he had said Griffin was to protect Sofia, not Penelope, but maybe that was a technicality.
“What’s a Daughter of Light?” little Penelope asked, tilting her head and looking far more serious than a four-year-old should.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll fill you in.”
Apparently, his little trick had worked, even though he hadn’t actually used any magic to lead her to believe he was a good person. At any rate, Penelope led the way down the hall, through the living room, and into the eat-in kitchen, where she slid onto a chair at the table and perched her dragon next to her elbow.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal. With blueberries.”
Okay, he could do that. Hopefully. He opened cabinet doors until he found one that contained a variety of dry goods, including a tube of oatmeal that wasn’t the instant kind you poured hot water over and called it a day. Sighing, he lifted the container and read the instructions.
“So what’s a Daughter of Light?” Sofia asked again.
While Griffin prepared breakfast, he explained. “A Daughter of Light is a witch who is also descended from the gods.”
“I’m a witch?”
Sofia had said that she did not know what the little girl was, which, he supposed, made sense. Depending on how long she’d been a loner, Sofia may not even be aware of the existence of Daughters of Light. Hell, Penelope may be the only one left in this world. Warlocks had been quietly killing them off for decades now.
“You are,” Griffin confirmed. “A very powerful one. More powerful than almost all other witches, in fact.”
“Because I’m also a god.”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
He chuckled but then frowned. This discovery led to all sorts of complications. It also meant that Sofia and Penelope needed more than just him to protect them.
He’d never been responsible for protecting a Daughter of Light before—well, except for that time that he’d rescued Penelope, but in his defense, he hadn’t realized what he was up against back then.
This was different. He’d come to New Orleans intent upon proving himself to the coolest and most powerful gargoyle there was: Oliver. Except this was not what Griffin had anticipated as a first assignment. He’d hoped for rescuing kittens from trees as a lead in to the difficult stuff.
No way was he prepared for something so important as keeping possibly the only existing Daughter of Light safe.
Chapter Four
Several thoughts hit Sofia all at once.
One, she’d definitely slept for more than three hours.
Two, Penelope had not woken her, which was concerning.
