Page 2 of Mated to the Gargoyle
Andthen there were the gargoyles.
Threemassive stone gargoyle statues were perched inside this gothic building, and two flanked the roof outside.Theywere magnificent.
Visitorsremarked on them often, stating how lifelike they looked.I’dsmile and tease, “Maybethey are.”They’doften look at me with a perplexed expression before grinning at my joke.
Itnever got old—to me, at least.
Perhapsit wasn’t somethingIshould joke about—not with the whispers about this library being haunted.Staffnoted hearing the sounds of footsteps after hours.Nobodyhad ever reported seeing a ghost, but they did talk about the sense of being watched.I’dfelt it too.Itwas a peculiar sensation.Theskin on the back of my neck would prickle with awareness, andI’dspin around.Nobodywould be there.Noghosts or any other spiritual being thatIcould see.Onlythe cold, hard gargoyles perched motionless on their stone mantles.
Forsome reason, these statues made me feel likeIwasn’t alone whenIstayed here after hours.Theystood like silent companions, which was more thanIhad at home.UnlikeRobert,Ididn’t have a spouse waiting for me.WouldIever find love, the long enduring kind, the way he’d found?WouldIone day celebrate a quarter of a century anniversary with my special someone?
Notonly didInot have anyone at home who’d be waiting for me, butIdidn’t even have a pet to care for because my landlord didn’t allow them.Noone to care ifIreturned home or not.Oneday, maybe that would change.I’dhave a home filled with books, and pets, and love, and perhaps my own romantic love story.Itwas a dream, an escape from my otherwise uneventful life.
Untilthen, books were my vicarious gateway to a more exciting world.Eachone of them could be a portal to an adventure, a secret world, or an unforgettable romance.Theywere the only placeI’dhad any luck finding true love.Mylast relationship had only made it two months, but the emotional scarring lingered much longer.Myex had cheated on me and didn’t understand whyIcouldn’t let it go.He’dmocked me, sayingIwas nothing special and good luck finding anyone willing to sleep with a plain, frumpy librarian.Thathurt, especially since he knew about my childhood growing up in foster homes, whereIfelt like a burden.Afterbeing with that master of manipulation, it was safer to be alone.Whatwas the point of putting myself out there only to have my heart crushed and end up feeling bad about myself?Iwas better off with my books—and my gargoyles.
Well, one gargoyle in particular—the massive stone piece of art perched closest to my desk.
OnceI’dretrieved the leather-bound book from the special collections room on the first floor,Ibrought it upstairs and sat in a plush, blue velvet chair near the gargoyle.Iraised the book to show it to my silent companion. “Thisis some book, isn’t it?”
Sincewe’d spent many long hours here together,Ioften spoke to the statue like it was a confidant.Withhim nearby,Ididn’t feel so alone. “Whatdo you think we’ll find in here,Pierre?”Yes,Igave an inanimate object a name, a tongue-in-cheek one since this massive stone figure was hardly what the name meant—little pebble.
Sigh.Sad,Iknow.MaybeIshould make some real friends.
Thatwasn’t easy for me.I’donly lived inMontrealfor four months since getting this job in the library and moving here from the suburbs.Iwasn’t outgoing enough to quickly make friends.Peoplewho could walk up to a group of strangers at a party and introduce themselves had a superhero level of confidenceI’dnever be able to summon.Well, introverts had a place in the world too.Weshould be more highly valued in a world where people talked, yet often said nothing of truth or value.Someof those gabbers might be better off if they closed their mouths and opened a book once in a while.
Ispread the leather-bound book on my lap, and anticipation surged through me—far beyond the excitementIoften felt when starting a new read.Iopened it and flipped through the pages, staring at intricate illustrations and spells that were written in various languages, fromOldFrenchtoLatinto modernFrenchandEnglish.Theair in the library seemed to thicken.
WasIimagining it?Iblinked several times to clear my vision.Theink seemed to settle back onto the pages.AsIscanned the pages of this extraordinary book, my mouth dropped open.Itwas absolutely stunning.Isnapped it shut just in time beforeIdrooled on the page, marring such a unique book.
Thestrange blonde woman had begged me to hide it.Why?Andfrom whom?She’dsaid not to lethimget it.Whatwas in this book that she had been so adamant about protecting?
WhenIreached the last page,Ichecked the grandfather clock that loomed against the far wall.Howhad almost an hour passed without me realizing it?
Ineeded to figure out what to do about this book, but for now,Ihad to lock it up safely.OnceIreturned to the special collections room,Isearched for a spot where it would be better hidden.
Higherwas better.Islid one of the ladders over to whereIcould access an empty space on an upper bookshelf.Iclimbed it with the book in hand.
Aloud thump outside the room startled me.Ipaused and listened, my heart pounding faster.
Wassomeone out there?
CHAPTER2
HUGO
There’sa fire inVieux-Montreal, my commander,Dumont, communicated telepathically, breaking into my thoughts.
Iwinced in my stone.Someof those beautiful old buildings in the original section of the city stood as magnificent pieces of architecture, andIached to think of them burning.
Humansare trapped in the upper levels, he added.IneedSentriesto help with rescue missions.
Ah, hell.Aflash of a rescue effort many years ago came to mind.Ihadn’t been able to save everyone within, and my failure haunted me.
I’minside the library,Iresponded.LucandMarcare perched outside.Shallwe come?Iprepared to shift into action.Leavingwould meanAnyawould be alone here after hours.Ididn’t like that, even if the library was empty, but had to do my duty.
Don’tabandon the library,Dumontcommanded.Wecan’t leave it unprotected.Hugo, stay there.LucandMarc, fly to us.
Aye,Commander,Iresponded, conflicted by my relief.Justthinking of an experience with fire in my past made my stone twitch.
