Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MORGAN

" U m, hello." I raise a hand and wave awkwardly at the other gargoyle. "So sorry to disturb your evening."

Slowly, my thoughts are rearranging themselves, and I realize how idiotic I must look. I'd thought I could traipse around in the forest, find out the truth about the local spooky stories, and satisfy my professional curiosity. Instead, I nearly died—and now I'm crashing these guys' Christmas Eve, making trouble for them.

In my defense, I was pretty desperate to do something with my life. I couldn't go on living as I was, slowly crumbling under the weight of my student loan debt and boredom from working an unsatisfying job. I'd come to a point where I knew I'd lose everything if I didn't take control, and this was my last-ditch effort to do it.

Instead, I'd injured myself, possibly worsening my financial situation, and ruined their cozy evening.

The gargoyle carrying me speaks, but not in English this time. A rapid stream of German—and I'm eighty-five percent certain it is German—falls from his lips, and the other guy, who must be Emmerich, sits up straight. He glances from my savior to me and back, his dark eyebrows climbing higher and higher.

He's as handsome as the gargoyle holding me, if a little younger. In the firelight, his gray skin has a golden hue, and when his wings flare wide, I can almost see through them, the bones and veins illuminated from behind.

My fingers itch with the need to touch them, to feel the thin membranes and find out whether their wing bones are created the same as bats'. They look similar, the humerus strong to hold the majority of the wing weight, the radius elongated for a massive wingspan. Then I blink, forcing the thoughts away. Of course I can't just walk up to a supernatural creature and ask if I could feel him up.

The gargoyle stands, carefully places a bookmark in his book, and puts it on a shelf. Then he approaches slowly, something like hope in his expression. When he's close enough to touch, he inhales through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

And he smiles, his rough features creasing, turning him from merely handsome to extraordinary. Without warning, he takes my hand and holds it between his palms, patting it gently.

"Hello, human," he says. His voice holds a similar accent, though its timbre is different. "I'm very happy to meet you."

"Um." I try to shake his hand, but he's still rubbing his thumbs over my palm, so that doesn't work. "Hi, I'm Morgan. Morgan Grabowski."

"And I am Emmerich Bauer," he tells me. "You are very beautiful."

The gargoyle carrying me snaps something at him in German, then twists away so my hand is yanked from Emmerich's grip. He carries me to the armchair and gently deposits me in it, then pulls up a chair so I can rest my injured leg on it.

"This is Klaus Mertz, my roost mate." Emmerich pops up beside me. "He says he found you in the forest. Does your leg hurt very badly?"

I shuffle around and take my backpack off, bringing it into my lap. I clutch it to my chest, suddenly unsure of myself. They're both looming over me, tall and imposing, and I don't know what to do.

Emmerich sniffs the air again, then lets out a sound of dismay. He crouches in front of me and takes my hand again. "Don't be afraid, human Morgan. You are safe here."

He sounds so earnest, I can't help but relax a little. If they meant to hurt me, they could do so easily, but they're just staring at me. Klaus hovers awkwardly by the fire while Emmerich pats my hand.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I only…"

I stop myself because how can I explain that I came here to research them? I wasn't sure what I was going to find, but I wasn't counting on sentient creatures with a cozy, book-filled apartment in this decrepit tower. I thought they'd be more like bats, wary of me but content to let me study them from a distance.

This is completely different.

"So…" I push my damp hair behind my ear with my free hand. "You're gargoyles?"

Klaus says something in German, and Emmerich laughs, his wings flaring out on both sides.

"Did you really think he was a demon?" he demands, turning to me. "I must tell all our friends about this, they will tease him."

My cheeks heat with a flush. "I've never met a gargoyle before. I'm sorry if I insulted you," I say to Klaus, "but you surprised me. You had the horns and the wings…"

I shrug helplessly, my words trailing off.

"And the tail." Emmerich whips his long tail through the air behind him. He chuckles. "But we are not demons, no. Gargoyles are protectors, human Morgan."

"Just Morgan is fine," I say, smiling despite myself.

He's adorable, like an eager puppy—if puppies were almost seven feet tall and armed with deadly claws and super strength.

"What do you mean, you're protectors?" I ask.

But before Emmerich can reply, Klaus steps closer, interrupting us. "You're wet. You need to get warm so I can take you to the hospital."

"Oh!" Emmerich jumps up, unfolding his big body. "You've been hurt! Let me see."

He goes as if to touch my boot, and I flinch back instinctively, afraid he'll hurt me with his big hands. He stops, looking crestfallen at my retreat.

"I-I'll take my boot off," I say. "It's just—it hurts a lot."

Emmerich nods, his expression serious. "I'm sorry. I didn't think of that."

I ease off my boot, gritting my teeth at the pain. The swelling makes my task more difficult, and by the time I manage to pry off my damp sock, I'm crying, tears rolling down my cheeks. Emmerich crouches beside me again, murmuring something in German that sounds like he's trying to soothe me, and for some reason, it works. I give him a wobbly smile and swipe my palms over my cheeks, then focus on my foot.

The ankle is swollen, that's for sure, but it doesn't look deformed or too bruised. It hurts to the touch, but after I leave it alone for a couple of minutes, the throbbing pain lessens to an ache. If I'm lucky, it's only sprained, so I'll just have to rest and ice it, but if it gets any worse by tomorrow, I'll have to go to the ER and get an X-ray done.

"Here." Klaus appears beside me, holding out a thick blanket. "Your parka is all damp."

I accept his offer and shuck off my outer layer. The two gargoyles watch me maneuver in the armchair, and Emmerich jumps in to steady me while I shove off my snow pants. Then I collapse back, dressed in thermal leggings and my fleece sweater, breathing hard.

A moment passes as we all stare at each other. Their attention is unwavering, and when they focus like this, they go completely still, more statue-like than ever.

Then Klaus clears his throat. "I can hang these for you. To dry."

I hand him my parka and snow pants, wondering how to proceed now. Him hanging up my clothes means he expects me to wait for them to dry, right? Or will he roll me up like a burrito in that blanket he brought me and fly me home?

"How is your leg?" Emmerich asks. "Do you need a human doctor?"

I bite my lip to hide a smile. What kind of doctor does he think I could need? But he seems genuinely worried about me, and for some reason, I want to put him at ease.

"It's probably just a sprained ankle. Do you have any ice, maybe?"

I glance around for the first time, taking in the space around me. There's a nook that looks like it might be a kitchen, but there's no stove, just a small counter. The place has electricity, as evidenced by a mood lamp by the bookcase, and there is a tap in the kitchen, which must mean they have running water at the very least. I wonder how they managed to put in all these amenities while the human population of Clearwater still thought this tower was abandoned.

Klaus murmurs something to Emmerich in German, then disappears through the door we came in earlier. Emmerich drapes another blanket around my shoulders, pats my back, and bodily pushes the huge armchair—with me in it—closer to the fire. Finally, he stalks to the kitchenette and rummages around the cupboards, then brings me a small pot of what looks like chutney. I uncap it and sniff it carefully. The scent of honey and herbs wafts up at me, pleasant enough—but what am I supposed to do with it?

"Oh, good thinking," Klaus says. He returns inside and shakes snowflakes from his wings. "Here, I brought you some snow."

He hands over a large snowball, and I'm left holding the honey chutney in one hand, the snowball in the other.

"Um." I glance from Klaus to Emmerich. "Thanks?"

Emmerich crouches by my feet. "You put the salve on the ankle," he says slowly. "Irma said it would work on us, so there's reason to believe it will do for you, too."

"It's medicinal?" I sniff at it again, wondering who Irma is. "I thought you brought me a snack."

Klaus looks horrified. "No, no, it's spelled. Not a good idea to eat it, definitely not for humans."

"Right." I hold out the snowball to Emmerich. "Do you have a towel I could wrap this in? It'll hurt if I put it directly on my skin."

He seems confused for a moment, then shrugs and goes to fetch the towel. I scoop up some of the salve and hesitate for a moment. I don't have any cuts on my skin, so at least I can be reasonably sure the salve won't cause an infection, but is it smart to put spelled goop on my leg?

Only one way to find out .

Under Klaus' watchful eye, I smear it on. A light tingle spreads from it, sort of like a soothing balm, but the longer it rests, the deeper it penetrates, spreading a cooling sensation through my aching ankle.

"Ohhh." I inspect my injury. It doesn't look any different, but it definitely feels better. "This is some good stuff."

"I forgot we had it," Klaus admits. "Emmerich is the one who bought it from the magical apothecary."

I blink up at him. "The magical apothecary?"

He cocks his head to the side. "The one next to the bakery in town."

My thoughts spin as I try to come to terms with this. I knew Arielle had discovered some strange dating app that allows you to be matched with a monster, and I heard the rumors about the supernatural presence in town. But I've visited the pharmacy next to the bakery several times for my pill prescription and just general over-the-counter meds resupply after moving, and I had no idea it was actually an apothecary .

Emmerich bustles up with the snow wrapped in a clean kitchen towel. "Will this do?"

"Yeah, that's perfect."

I ease the cool bundle onto my ankle and pat it down. Then I'm all done, with my injury taken care of and nothing more to do, yet the two gargoyles are still standing there, staring at me.

Heat rises in my cheeks, and I think of how I must look, in my sports clothes, with mussed hair and chapped lips, tired after a long day.

"I didn't mean to impose," I say quietly. "I'm sorry for upsetting your evening."

Emmerich crowds closer and takes my hand again. He keeps touching me at every opportunity, and I don't hate it. His energy is so pure, I don't feel uncomfortable with him at all.

"You didn't upset us," he says. Then he glances at Klaus and says something in German again, words that have Klaus growling at him.

A jolt goes through me at the sound. He looks fierce, his eyebrows drawn together, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I remember at once that I'm in the presence of monsters, so I draw my hand away from Emmerich and scoot as far as the armchair will allow.

Emmerich turns his attention on me once more, his gray-blue eyes wide. "No, don't be afraid, Morgan. What's the matter?"

I swallow past a suddenly tight throat. "I don't know. But he seems angry, and if you're speaking German, I can't understand you." I think the reality of my situation has finally caught up with me, now that the adrenaline is wearing off. "You offered to take me home. We can do that. I don't want to overstay my welcome."

The truth is, I'm alone with two strange men, and no matter how kind they are, they're still monsters. I don't know enough about gargoyles to know what could have made Klaus scowl like that. I don't want to leave before I've had a chance to learn more about them, but maybe I could return another day, when I'm better, or meet with them in a different location, closer to town.

"No more German," Emmerich blurts immediately. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about how that would make you feel."

Klaus nods, too, though his forehead is still creased in a frown, an aura of menace surrounding him.

"What did you say?" I ask the younger gargoyle. "To make him this angry?"

Klaus finally lets out a breath and drags his big palm over his face. "Forgive me. He suggested we should bring in a healer, a witch we know in town. Irma doesn't make house calls, but he does. That did not sit well with me, but I didn't want to frighten you."

I stare up at him, confused. "Why would that make you angry? Would the witch want to hurt me?"

Emmerich shakes his head, grinning. "Oh, no. Donovan is very kind. But he is male."

It takes me a moment to understand.

"And that bothers you?" I ask Klaus. "The thought of another man taking care of me?"

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he gives me one curt, decisive nod.

"Why?"

It's a simple question, but I need the answer—and if I so much as think that he's lying to me, I'll demand to be taken away from here immediately.

Klaus lets out another low growl, his fists clenched so tight, his gray knuckles turn pale. Then Emmerich nudges him with his elbow, his expression almost imploring.

"Because you are our roost mate, Morgan," Klaus says. "And I cannot bear the thought of letting another man close to you until we're fully mated."