Page 34 of Gaga for the Gargoyle
He sighs dramatically.
“Every gargoyle is different. Some keep them sheathed, others do not.Ithink mine are sexy, thereforeIkeep mine out.” He smiles, flashing his fangs to solidify his point. “Any more questions?”
I open my mouth, because I do have more questions, but Locheran’s phone interrupts me. For the next few minutes, I watch him juggle between texting someone nonstop and making phone calls to bark out orders to the team of gargoyles escorting us out of the city. They’re relaying information back to him that I’ve tuned out because if I hear them talking about their mission of protecting me, I might just stress out more than I already am.
Xander texts me a few times, checking in. He’s mad I didn’t wake him to say goodbye and made me promise to make it up to him when I get back.
I know he’s worried since he couldn’t come with us.
“So, Xander is tethered to the city, but you and the rest of his army are not?” I ask once Locheran is done with all his calls.
“Correct.”
“How long has he been stranded here?”
“He’s not stranded—” Locheran pinches his nose and sighs. “He’s been here since the early 1600s.”
“Seriously? Damn.” I stare out the window, watching the city skyline disappear into the night the further we drive. “What was his deal yesterday at breakfast?”
“Are you going to ask me questions this entire trip? Because I will launch myself out of the car into traffic.”
“Rude.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just...when Xander is weak, we can all feel his exhaustion.”
“Does that affect your ability to protect the city?”
“Not yet, but...”
“But you worry it will only get worse the closer he gets to his birthday.”
He nods and leans his head back on the headrest.
“I’m sorry, Locheran.”
I place my hand on his forearm, and his eyes pop open.
“Whoa. That was weird.”
“What?”
“You, like, sent a dose of calm throughout my body.”
I pull my hand back and open my palms, staring down at them. “I did? How?”
“You sure you’rehuman?”
“Yes?”
“It must be the fate—”
He clears his throat and takes out his phone, pretending to answer a call.
“The what!?”
He points at the phone and starts talking, but I know he’s faking it to avoid answering my question. Fine. I’ll just add it to the list of things to ask Xander.
Now I’m mad at the commander, so I cross my arms and stare out the window for the rest of the trip. He tries to start a conversation with me a few times, but I only shrug or give him one-word answers.
