Page 12 of Gargoyle Sentinel
Cassiel darted forward, scooping up Danny’s limp form. The moment she touched him, Danny’s eyes flew open, a startled gasp escaping his lips.
“No!” Gideon bellowed, his partially shifted form contorting with rage. “The ritual isn't complete!”
Malachi seized the momentary distraction, swiping a wing against Gideon’s side and flipping him onto his back.
“You chose the wrong team,” Malachi growled, pinning Gideon with his weight. “And you touched what’s mine.”
Behind them, the clash of blades and the screeches of dying shadow gargoyles filled the vast space. Malachi’s focus narrowed to the traitor beneath him, his vision edged with unbridled fury.
“Your mate?” Gideon laughed, blood bubbling from his lips. “You haven’t claimed him. He doesn’t even know what he is.”
“He’s still mine to protect,” Malachi gritted, his talons digging into Gideon’s shoulders. “Something you should’ve been doing instead of serving these abominations.”
Gideon’s face contorted, his features becoming increasingly mutated as he crept closer to leaving his true gargoyle behind. “The rogues showed me truths you refuse to see. The Divine Spark keeps us leashed like dogs while we fight their eternal war.”
“Save your bullshit for someone who cares.” Malachi’s tail curled upward, swishing back and forth, the spiked club at the end of the appendage ready to finish what Gideon had started when he stole Danny. “Last chance. Will you surrender?”
“Fuck you and your self-righteous stupidity.” Gideon’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “My only regret is not getting to see him gutted and drained of every drop of his precious blood while you were forced to watch.”
Before he drew another breath, Malachi crushed Gideon’s skull with the club of his tail. He spat on the traitor, then jumped to his feet. Oily black smoke and the acrid stench of the ash remaining from slain shadow gargoyles surrounded him. Ronen rushed over, shifting back to his human form. One shadowremained, a warrior he’d never officially met still battling it out with the disgusting creature.
Malachi swiped the back of his bloodstained hand across his lips. “Excuse me for a sec,” he said to Ronen as he stomped across the room. He tapped on the Slayer’s shoulder, and the second he turned, Malachi thwacked the shadow on the side of the head with his tail. The creature vaporized and joined his buddies in a pile of ashes on the floor.
The Slayer frowned at him. “Hey, I had it.”
The crystal around his neck had survived unscathed, and Danny was alive and safe. He couldn’t give a shit about anything else.
“Yeah. I’m sure you did.” He trained his eyes toward the exit. “But I’ve got somewhere important to be.” A smile teased at the edges of his mouth. “And I can’t wait a second longer.”
Chapter Four
Danny tried to loosen the cotton from his brain, but it wasn’t working all that well. He was in a comfy bed in a room he’d never seen before. The opulent space was nothing like he’d ever witnessed, other than maybe Bridgerton.
I’ve totally been roofied.
How else could he explain that one minute some weirdo was creeping up on him, then a big nothingness until now? He blinked several times at the muscle hunk staring at him from a fancy chair next to the bed.Oof. Hardcore hottie. But then a disturbing thought filled him. What if he and the weirdo were buddies and had been passing him around?
Eww.
His nerves kicked up a notch, and he fought to keep his panic in check. He was a reasonably intelligent person. Surely he could devise a way to get out of this situation.
If only my brain wasn’t a big pile of mush.
“You’re safe now.” Hot guy’s deep voice washed over Danny like warm honey. “I promise.”
Danny squinted, trying to focus on the man’s face. Chiseled jaw, plump kiss-worthy lips, intense green eyes, wavy chestnut hair. Definitely not the creep from outside the Silver Fox.
“Where am I?” Danny managed, his voice scratchy. “And who the hell are you?”
The man moved closer, perching carefully on the edge of the bed as if afraid Danny might bolt. “My name is Malachi. You can call me Mal.” He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. “You're in a safe house outside of Aspen. We rescued you from…” He cleared his throat. “A very dangerous situation.”
“Rescued?” Danny attempted to sit up, wincing as his head throbbed in protest and a jolt of pain shot through his side. He touched his throat where a spot was stinging, and realized there was a small wound. “Like, superhero rescued?”
A ghost of a smile touched Mal’s lips. “Something like that. How much do you remember?”
“Not much.” Danny gingerly touched his side where the pain had flared. “I was outside the Silver Fox with some guy named Simon, then this creepy dude approached me...” He trailed off, fragments of memories flickering through his mind like a broken film reel. “There were shadows that moved wrong. And eyes...” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Red eyes in the dark surrounding me. I couldn’t move, like those nightmares where you’re trying to run away, but it feels like you’re slogging through quicksand. Then something…” His stomach roiled. “Something foul touched me and…”
He shook his head frantically, immediately regretting it when a stabbing pain crashed through him. “It must’ve been whatever I was drugged with, making me imagine things. No way any of that was real.”
