Page 5 of The Gargoyle's Captive

I’m only now considering the potential implications of me being absent for seven years. There are other monster hunters. But few of them have been around as long as the Jaegers. They don’t have the track record, the trust, or the word of mouth that gives people a place to turn.

This should’ve been something I considered before saying yes. Or, at the very least, I should have negotiated some leniency about returning to the human realm to take care of any emergencies. I straighten my spine. It’s too late for regrets. I have to deal with the situation I’ve made. Besides, I may have signed the contract just now, but there’s nothing to say I can’t request an amendment to it.

Except... I don’t.

Azazel rolls the contract up. I don’t make any suggestions as Bram turns for the door and motions for me to follow him. I don’t speak a single word as we walk down the hall that certainly wasn’t there before to a grand arched door that has plenty of room to fit Bram’s wings through.

Bram glances sideways at me. “Are you afraid of heights?”

It’s an effort not to roll my eyes. The only reason I resist is because I need him to trust me enough to not post a guard on me every hour of every day. As it is, his aura is almost completely the burnt orange of irritation. I’m sure there’s some way to garner goodwill, but at this point, I just want to be left alone. “No.”

“This should be a memorable experience then.” Without another word, he scoops me into his arms. I’m so shocked at his audacity that I don’t immediately fight him. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. By the time I realize Ishouldbe fighting him, he opens the door and sweeps through... into nothingness.

I don’t scream. One of the first lessons a Jaeger learns is to be silent in response to fear. A scream or even a whimper can get you killed when you’re on the hunt.

But I sure as shit cling to Bram as he launches himself through the air, seemingly miles above the ground. The cold cuts through my insufficient dress as if it were nothing. That’s the only reason I huddle against his broad chest. Not because it feels nice to be held by him. Our hair whips around us violently enough to cut skin.

I think Bram laughs though I can’t be sure because the wind whisks away any sound. I can’t even focus properly to check his aura.Bastard. He did this on purpose.

I can’t speak. I can’t fight for fear of falling. I can’t do anything as we wing our way through the air. The hopelessness of the situation closes around my throat, making me want to hurt him. It’s everything I can do to stay still.

We seem to fly forever. Misery, along with the cold, sears its way to my very bones. I’m certain I’ll never be warm again. I’ve endured torture sessions less agonizing than this experience.

When Bram gathers me close, I forget myself enough to just be grateful for a little extra warmth. At least until his voice sounds in my ear. “Brace yourself.”

I don’t get a chance to ask him what I’m bracing myself for. The bastard pulls his wings together, and then we’re diving toward the ground at mind-bending speed. Still, I don’t scream. I didn’t think I’d go out like this, crushed in a million pieces, but I suppose they are worse ways to die.

I can’t open my eyes, and even if I could manage, I wouldn’t be able to see past the tears caused by the wind. I barely notice that our horrifying dive has turned into something slightly more controlled when the angle of our bodies changes. We’re still moving too fast, but I think we’re parallel to the ground again.

Bram backwings, and my stomach tries to keep moving in the previous direction. If I whimper, the sound is lost. Or at least I hope it is. He lands almost gracefully, and then—finally—we’re no longer moving.

“You can open your eyes now.” His body shifts as he walks, and even if my pride hates it, the reality is that if he sets me down now, I’ll collapse in a pathetic heap. “We’ll have to get you more appropriate clothing for the next time. I forgot how fragile humans are. So sensitive to temperature.”

“I am never doing that again.” I already have a disadvantage on the ground against monsters. I may have inherited the ability to see auras like the rest of the Jaegers, but the rest of me is human. I wasn’t born with superior strength or stamina. Everything I have, I had to fight for. When it comes to battle, I will always be outclassed. It’s why I fight dirty. At least in the human realm, technology can give me an edge and make up for my lack of physicality. Here, that’s not an option.

I fight against my body’s instinctive desire to curl in on itself. Opening my eyes is the first step. It proves to be a mistake, because Bram’s face is so close to mine. He really is a handsome fucker. His features look a little like someone hacked them out of a mountain, rough and almost unfinished in some ways. It’s more appealing than I’ll ever admit. His jaw looks strong enough to take a punch and then some, more likely to break the attacker’s hand than to yield.

And his skin...

Without thinking, I reach up and touch his jaw. He’s warm, yes, but his skin doesn’t feel like skin. It feels like stone. Smooth and movable, but stone nonetheless. Getting through it with any kind of blade would be impossible. It would take some kind of crushing weapon, like a mace or a hammer. Even then, the strength required? Impossible for me.

Not that I plan on killing this gargoyle.

I signed a contract, after all. Plus, he might’ve just scared the shit out of me, but he hasn’t actually hurt me or anyone else to the best of my knowledge. If I go around killing monsters simply because they’re monsters, then I’m no better than my ancestors. But I am a Jaeger. I can’t help the way my brain works.

Maybe that’s why I ask the question simmering in the front of my mind. “Can you burn?”

He eyes me. His eyes aren’t blue or gray or any color I’ve ever seen. They look almost violet in the current light. Or whatever the nearly white shade of purple would be called. I’m no artist.

I might be embarrassed to be staring so intently if he wasn’t doing the exact same thing. He studies my face as if he’s never seen a human before. Maybe he hasn’t. They don’t seem that common in this realm.

Or maybe he’s horrified that I just asked him if he burns.

“No,” he finally says. He’s already on the move, carrying me across what I realize is a roof. It’s made of stone and looks like the newer version of some of the castles I’ve seen in Europe. I try to crane my head to see over the half wall thing that keeps folks without wings from walking right off the edge.

“I can walk.”

“You’re saying that out of pride. If I put you down, you’re going to buckle like a newborn babe. It will waste both our time.”

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