Page 9 of The Gargoyle's Grace
I had half a mind to go back over there after I saw her safely back home and take care of it myself. I didn’t want the stain of Caster’s grasp anywhere near her. I knew better, though. The wordindependentdidn’t quite cover things where Grace was concerned. Forgiveness would be the least of my worries if I overstepped that much—I’d have to wonder about poison in her delicious food for the rest of my days, and that was not a sacrifice I was prepared to make.
Silence dogged our measured steps as the noise of the city fell away and the darkness embraced the streets. Businesses were shuttered, families were inside their homes, resting, and we were finally closing in on the collegium.
“Are you going to follow me the whole way?”
“Yes.” I scowled, offended by the question. As if I’d knowingly let her stroll through the city alone after dark. It was bad enough she gallivanted around so boldly during the day, though I knew she was more prepared than most to fend off trouble.
Which reminded me… I’d have to see if she’d stand for some weapons training. If she wouldn’t let me instruct her, perhaps the archmage could handle it. Even one of my daughters might be willing to take her on in their downtime between demon horde exterminations and their other work. If nothing else, Will would certainly be more than happy to supply a new blade.
“Grace,” I said with caution, barely a step behind her as she continued to barrel toward the stone building where the collegium was housed.
“What?” she snapped.
“Are you alright?” I asked, both relieved and worried when her pace slowed and she glanced over her shoulder at me.
“I’m fine,” she said in a rush, snapping her head back around. “Of course I’m fine. Why would you even ask?”
“No reason.”Every reason.
She hadn’t been the same since Calla’s kidnapping, which she seemed to never think of as her own kidnapping, as well. The thought of her being roughed up the way she had been made my blood heat. Anyone who’d touched her in such a way deserved to have their fingers removed as slowly and painfully as possible, just as a start.
Grace hadn’t allowed Rylan to use any magic to heal her face, so the deep scrapes she’d gotten had turned into shiny white scars from her temple to her jaw. They were a testament to both her strength and her guilt.
I found they only added to her understated beauty. I also knew I risked life and limb ever mentioning anything like that out loud.
“Do you have knowledge of all the stone kin in the city?” she asked suddenly, surprising me.
“Not all, but many. Why?”
“Just curious.”
I knew far better than that. “Who are you inquiring about specifically?” I asked, relieved that we were within sight of the collegium. Once we were inside the iron gates, I might be able to relax a bit.
“Nobody,” she sighed, reaching for the latch.
“It doesn’t sound like nobody,” I countered, but she didn’t continue. I lowered my voice, using the softest tone I could manage. “Grace.”
Her eyes were pinched as I took the gate in hand, allowing her to enter in front of me. “It’s nothing.” The words were barely above a whisper, which terrified me.
This woman was bold, loud, and took absolutely no shit from anyone—myself included. I was pretty sure even Rylan bowed to her will. Any woman who had both a demon magus and a gargoyle under her thumb deserved the utmost respect. I loved how she’d spar with me, give me hell, and never back down when she knew she was right.
Quiet meant she doubted herself. Or that she was afraid. Neither of which were acceptable.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Grace. I can’t take care of it if I’m in the dark.”
She crossed the stones of the courtyard slowly, measuring her words. “I don’t need you taking care of things for me, Magnus.”
“Of course you don’t.” I found myself wishing that she did. Because I absolutely wanted to.
She narrowed her eyes at me skeptically. “There are a few working for Caster, is all. I wondered if they were accounted for or just… wild? They seem young, for the most part, probably part human. Are there enough of you that three or four younglings can work wherever they choose?”
There truly wasn’t, especially with the recent uptick in demon horde outbreaks, but I had an idea who she might have seen. Plenty of the younger men in particular thought they’d never burn out and pulled double duty to try to get as much money as they could stashed away. They believed that stone sleep would fix just about anything, and while they weren’t wrong, every year they spent doing that would come at a price.
“I’ll check into it,” I promised, smelling traces of at least three other stone kin on her hair and clothing now that she’d stopped moving and was no longer upwind from me. Her parents were there as well, and a mixture of people she’d probably no more than crossed paths with on the street. I also clearly smelled Caster and his terrible cigars. The scent clung with an oily aftertaste and made me clench my fists.
She fidgeted with the edges of her cloak, making me increasingly nervous about whatever it was she was choosing to keep to herself. “Gaius works for him too. I’m not sure if you know that already, or if you care. But he’s there often. And he…”
“He what?” My voice sharpened again, her tension a direct pull on mine.
