Page 6 of The Gargoyle's Grace
It was a long-running joke between us, as he naturally thought his craftsmanship at the very least equal to that of my kin, if not superior. “Not today,” I replied, as I always did.
“Maybe another time then.” He chuckled and headed over to the small well. Drawing a bucket of water, he then used it to clean his blackened hands and face.
“Perhaps.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I would likely never carry a weapon forged by anything other than stone kin hands. He was a gifted artist at his craft, but his items were not meant for me. I gazed across the road, stunned to find a familiar face among the crowds moving through the square. “See you soon, Will.”
“Aye,” he grunted, already on his way back inside to continue his battle with the sword that was giving him so much trouble.
I frowned as I made my way across the street. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d expected to see less in this part of town, at this time of night. Though she looked as though she was thinking the exact same thing of me the closer I got.
This would certainly be interesting.
Chapter3
Grace
Ipulled my hood up over my hair, taking care to not let the heavy iron gate slam behind me as I exited the courtyard of my parents’ apartment block.
The bustle of business in the city had slowed way down from just a few hours prior. Families were gathered for their evening meals, the scent of onions and meat in the air as business was put to rest until sunrise.
Well… most business.
As the sun dropped fully below the horizon, a chilly breeze teased at my face and hands. Thanks to our weekly dinner, my stomach and heart were full, though quite unsettled.
My heart galloped behind my ribs as I stepped along the packed dirt avenue, leaving the well-lit residential area behind. I slipped a hand into my skirt pocket, nervously checking the weight of the leather pouch inside.
The payment was short this month.
And it wasn’t the first time.
I mentally rehearsed the little speech I might have to give about why we were behind. Father’s palsy was acting up thanks to the chill in the air and mother had lost several of her laundry clients due to having to care for him but was doing her best to replace them.
Last month I’d sacrificed my necklace as collateral to make up the difference. Despite my protests, my mother had given me her wedding ring, just in case. It would join my necklace this month. If next month wasn’t better, I wasn’t sure what else we’d have left to give.
Shaking the negative thought away, I turned into the alley where the broker had a storefront under a weathered apartment. The small food market on the corner was already shuttered for the evening, and the residents lingering outside watched me silently as I passed them by.
All too soon, I was standing outside the scarred yellow door, inhaling an acrid breath for courage, I rapped my knuckles on the wood in the pattern I’d been given at my last visit. I’d get a new one tonight, as well.
As the door creaked open just enough for a face to be seen, the massive form of one of Lawrence Caster’s henchmen was revealed. “State your business,” he growled.
“I’m making a payment,” I responded, straightening my shoulders. I reminded myself that these were just men and I could handle myself. Lawrence was a man, at least. His hired muscle were all part stone kin. But I had something they wanted. It would be fine. At least that’s what I kept telling myself to keep the panic shoved down.
The door opened wide, and I pushed past the man, heading for the side room where Lawrence conducted business.
“Right on time, Miss Jardin.” Lawrence Caster’s cragged face turned from me to the man taking up all the space on a small love seat at the side of the room. It was not the first time I’d seen him here, and I couldn’t help but wonder what his role was with this loan shark.
“Gaius.” I tipped my head in greeting.
“Grace.” He gave me a lopsided grin along with a lingering stare. Both sent chills skittering down my spine. My adrenaline surged; my body recognized the danger in his interest—just as it had the last time we’d met.
Large like Magnus, but in many ways much more feline, Gaius reeked of predatory intent. Tall and broad, his features were all sharp angles and severe lines, even in his human form. As a gargoyle, he was one of the most intimidating creatures I’d ever come across.
His arm brushed mine as he left the room, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral. I was sure he could smell the fear pouring off me, but there was no helping it. I was also quite sure he’d done it on purpose because he enjoyed provoking such a reaction.
“Let’s have it then.” The broker reached out a weathered hand to me, and I withdrew the pouch from my pocket. He dumped the contents onto his desk, sorting through the coins with his fingertips.
“My father’s condition has been worse lately, but we’re doing everything we can to make up the difference—”
“You’re half a measure light, Miss Jardin. Again.” His cold gaze met mine, a question in them.
