Page 107

Chapter 44

What’s Left of Love

Iblink and stare into the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

Something small hurls itself toward me, slamming into me like a cannonball, and I go down hard, the air leaving my lungs in a whoosh.

“What the hell?” I manage to gasp.

Something is attacking me, something small but heavy and with sharp pointy claws.

“Hey, stop,” I shout, waving my arms and trying to pull the thing off me. Finally, I manage to hold it at arm’s length. It’s hard like a lump of rock. A lump of rock with claws. I sit up. Itgoes still and glares at me out of amber eyes. They remind me a little of Khaosti’s.

“You’re not the devil,” a low gravelly voice grumbles. It leans in close, nostrils wrinkling, and sniffs. “You smell like the devil.”

I do? That’s something I would have preferred not to know.

I study my attacker. He’s not much bigger than my fist and made of dark cracked stone with glowing amber eyes. His bat-like wings are slightly too large for his body, and they twitch in frustration. His face is sharp and angular, and as he scowls, tiny fangs peek from his mouth. Curled horns sit atop his head, and his long, pointed ears twitch in time with his wings. His claws dig into my hands and his whip-like tail curls around my wrist.

We’re staring at each other. I’m trying to decide what he is…and wondering if he’s trying to decide whether to attack me again. I hope not. His claws tighten. “Hey, stop that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His little nose wrinkles and he casts me a look of complete disdain. “I have survived the devil’s lair for over five thousand years. I think I can survive a little girl.”

“Hey, who are you calling little?” He reminds me of the ornamental monsters you see on old churches on Earth. But smaller. What do they call them? I really want to ask—what are you? But that sounds so rude. So I make do with, “Who are you?”

“I am Grimlet.”

I’m pretty sure he’s not going to attack, so I place him on the floor close to the flickering light. “And you live here?” I ask.

He wraps his arms around himself and nods. “Yes. I look after the lady.”

“The lady?”

He waves a hand toward the dark shadows at the back of the cell. There’s someone else in here? A lady?

I frown.

Why did Lucifer put me in here?

As I push myself to my feet, Grimlet leaps for me. For a second I think he’s attacking me again, but instead he settles on my shoulder, one clawed hand grasping my hair. “Grimlet likes you. Even though you smell of the devil.”

“Animals always like me,” I say. He tugs on my hair. Hard. “Ouch.”

“I am not an animal. Do animals talk? No. I am a gargoyle.”

Of course he is. That’s exactly the word I was looking for.

I walk slowly toward the back of the cell. It’s quite big, maybe twenty feet by twenty feet. The light seems to follow us, illuminating the dark corners. There’s a narrow cot bed along the back wall and on it lies a woman. Her eyes are closed. She’s wearing a thin shift dress of gray material, and beneath it, she’s skeletally thin. Her skin is gray to match her dress.

“She doesn’t look well,” I murmur. “Has she been like this for long?”

“For many thousands of years,” he whispers back.

Shock flashes through me. “What?” She must be immortal. One of the Astrali. She’s been locked up here for thousands of years. That’s barbaric. “Who is she? What did she do to deserve this?” But I’m getting a weird feeling.

“She fell in love with the devil.”