Page 7

Chapter Seven

And speaking of otherworldly problems…

I stood next to Mason in stone form atop the Alberta Legislature Building’s roof, my gaze sweeping over the Edmonton skyline and the frozen river valley below. Despite the biting cold, the view from up here was worth the hassle. Reaching the roof had required a careful climb through a narrow set of locked staircases up to the cupola—a turret perched at the very pinnacle of the dome. Normally, this area was off-limits to the public, but with some creative manoeuvring—and a bit of hurried lock-picking—I’d made it. Now, I just had to ensure no one caught me. Explaining why I was loitering on top of a historic government building while waiting for a gargoyle to shift back into his human form would be…complicated.

I settled in next to Mason and brushed a thin layer of fresh snow off his foot. He’d positioned himself on the ledge to face the back of the building, his eyes aimed directly at the grounds below. After a decade, I couldn’t recall the exact spot of the portal, but I knew it was down there somewhere. Guess it was too much to ask for a glowing sign with a flashing arrow that read, “Entrance to Hell.”

I braced my arms against the ledge and peeked over. Before I lost my wings, heights had never bothered me. Why would they when I could fly? But now, my heart gave a tiny, anxious flutter. A fall wouldn’t kill me, but it sure would hurt like the dickens.

Still, the view was quite breathtaking. Snow blanketed the grounds below, muting everything in shades of white and grey, the trees stripped bare for the season. The sun had just started to dip, casting a warm glow over the winter landscape. As much as I hated the cold, I had to admit—winter looked peaceful, even beautiful.

“Definitely scored a prime location, hey Mason?” I murmured, my gaze scouring every inch of land.

The only answer was the wind, whistling through the silence—a faint, hollow hum that cut through the crisp, winter air. Mason, of course, remained perfectly still, his face locked in a vigilant, unmoving expression. Carved into his gargoyle form, he looked every bit the ancient guardian, standing against ages of frost, wind, and time itself.

Gargoyles had always fascinated me. Their transformation was unlike any other shapeshifters. The way they snapped to life when the sun finally set, as if they hadn’t just spent the entire day frozen in stone—it was both eerie and impressive.

Minutes ticked by, and the sun continued to inch its way lower. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, rubbing my gloved hands together for warmth and watching as the sky deepened into twilight. Shadows stretched across the grounds below, and the chill in the air grew sharper as the light faded. My anticipation grew, knowing Mason’s transformation would soon begin.

Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon, and dusk settled over the city. A faint cracking noise broke the silence as Mason began to shift, small fissures spreading across his hard surface. I watched as the granite layer splintered and crumbled, his rigid, winged form beginning to expand and reshape. His limbs elongated, muscles shifting beneath his skin as he grew to his full size. As the last remnants of stone fell away, he stood fully clothed, presumably in whatever he’d worn at sunup, before taking his perch. His almost grey eyes blinked open, sharp and alert, and he instantly took in his surroundings.

“Lily,” he greeted me with a half-smile. “Never thought I’d see you up here. To what do I owe the honour?”

I turned my attention back to the snow-covered grounds. The landscape below stretched out in pristine white, smooth and undisturbed, with no sign of any supernatural ripples or hidden doorways. Just the quiet, empty beauty of winter. “I was hoping to get a look at the portal,” I admitted, chuckling, “but all I see is snow. Guess gargoyles really do have the best eyesight.”

Mason chuckled alongside me. “I can take you to it if you want a closer look.”

“Lead the way,” I replied, gesturing to the narrow stairs.

With a slight smirk, Mason did exactly that. Together, we turned away from the ledge and began our careful retreat down the winding stairwell. I had to hand it to him—for a guy his size, he moved with surprising stealth, each step soundless as we descended. But even so, I kept my ears sharp for any sign of security making their rounds.

As we reached the ground level, Mason held a finger to his lips and pointed ahead. A flashlight beam cut through the darkness just beyond the corner of the building. I pulled back into the shadows, pressing myself against the stone wall as the security guard’s footsteps grew louder. I glanced over at Mason, who remained perfectly still, blending seamlessly into the shadows beside me. We waited, barely breathing, until the guard’s steps receded and the light disappeared around the far side of the building.

Once the coast was clear, we slipped around to the back, careful to avoid any more patrols. Our boots crunched softly over the snow, the icy air stinging my cheeks.

“There was another reason I came to see you,” I said, breaking the silence.

Mason cocked his head toward me. “Oh?”

“I wanted you to know…that hellspawn you saw? She’s dead. So you don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

Mason’s eyes widened, but he nodded. “Good. Less hellspawn means a little less trouble around here. Provided more don’t come through.”

When he didn’t ask any more questions, I breathed a sigh of relief. The fewer details I shared, the better it was for everyone.

“You haven’t seen any others come through?” I asked.

“Not during the day. But I don’t hang around here at night.”

I nodded thoughtfully. One hellspawn had already slipped through, and with no one here to watch the portal, it was possible more had followed suit. I hardly expected Deidre would be the last. My father wasn’t known for patience. When he wanted something, he did whatever he could to acquire it.

Mason led me across the grounds and pointed in front of us. As we neared our destination, a shiver ran up my spine, the faintest ripple in the air brushing against my senses. Even after all this time, the energy here was unmistakable—a dark, magnetic pull I recognized all too well.

I stopped just shy of the portal’s invisible boundary, my gaze drifting over the familiar patch of ground—now blanketed in snow. Standing here, it was impossible not to think back to the day I’d arrived. One second, I’d been standing in Lucifer’s throne room, and the next, boom , I was here—thrust into a place the stark opposite of Hell.

Where I’d expected to see geysers spewing hellfire and scorched, jagged terrain, I’d instead seen soft grass, fluffy clouds, and leafy trees. Back then, I hadn’t known what any of those things even were. Everything had seemed so foreign to me—the sounds, the smells, the colours.

Maybe that was why I hadn’t been able to remember the portal’s exact location. Everything had been a blur of confusion and disorientation. But none of that had compared to the moment I’d realized my wings were gone. The utter hysteria that had brought me to my knees.

Slowly, I reached a hand toward the portal, fingers stretched out to test the energy that lingered in the air. The sensation was faint but unmistakable—a ripple, a subtle distortion that set it apart from the otherwise quiet stillness of this world. Right here, hidden from my eyes, was a tether to Hell, an unwanted link to the place I’d once called home.

“And Bingo was his name-oh,” I whispered, my fingertips tingling.

“Can you see it now?” Mason asked.

I shook my head. I hadn’t been able to see it then either—only feel it, a sensation of Hell’s dark pull just beyond reach. The thought of my former home, only steps away through this portal, was surreal. But whatever nostalgia I’d once felt for Hell was long gone. There was no part of me that wanted to step back into that life.

Bracing myself, I pressed forward, half-expecting my hand to pass through. But instead, it met with solid resistance, like a locked door barring my entry. Relief flooded through me; the portal was closed, sealed off. That meant it wasn’t wide open for any stray hellspawn to wander through. Not just anyone could stumble into this world uninvited.

Yet the relief was short-lived. The portal’s residual power hummed beneath my fingertips—a reminder that, though it was closed now, it was far from gone. Deidre’s recent arrival meant my father must have found a way around Heaven’s seals, a way to breach the boundary. There was no way he wouldn’t try again.

I pulled my hand back, frustration tightening in my chest. I wanted nothing more than for Hell to stay on its side, a firm boundary separating my past from my present. But there was no guarantee it would remain closed. I certainly couldn’t spend every second here guarding it. I had a life to live—a human life, with human responsibilities. Coffee to serve, drinks to pour, an imp and a cat to feed. And, for once, I had something personal to look forward to—a date with Jack on Friday. The thought of it was both thrilling and grounding. Besides, even if I wanted to abandon everything and keep watch here, what good would it do? I couldn’t stop an entire army from coming through, not by myself.

“Have you told anyone else about this?” I asked.

“A few,” he admitted. “Some have come to see it, but thankfully, no one’s tried to open it.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” I muttered. “I can’t see it, but it feels closed right now.”

Mason nodded, his gaze fixed presumably on the portal. “The aura is quiet.”

I shot him a startled glance. “The portal has an aura?”

He shrugged. “Everything does. People, places, objects of power. But the portal is different. It has this strange, ethereal glow—very unearthly. I’ve only ever seen an aura like this once before.” His gaze shifted, landing squarely on me. “And that was with you.”

My pulse spiked, and for a split second, my control slipped. The cold air seemed sharper against my skin, every nerve primed and ready. A dozen thoughts flickered through my mind—every instinct telling me that if he knew what I was and where I was from, then he was a threat I couldn’t afford to ignore.

“That so?” I said, keeping my voice steady, neutral.

Mason’s expression was unreadable, and his eyes never left mine. “Mm-hmm. When we first met, I’d never seen anything like your energy signature before. But I’m not the prying type. Everyone is entitled to their secrets, so I left it alone. But then this portal opened, and let’s just say, it raised some questions.” He spoke quietly. “You know more about this than you’re letting on, don’t you?”

Tension seized my shoulders, and the urge to keep my secret flared. Mason’s gaze remained steady, holding mine, but he was piecing it all together. My fingers flexed instinctively, weighing my options—options that included making sure he never had the chance to question me again.

Mason sighed and relaxed his stance. “Look, I’m not here to dig into your past, Lily. Whatever you’re keeping to yourself, that’s your business.. I just want you to know that you aren’t alone in this. Thanks to my great-grammy, I know more about hellspawn than most. They’re the last thing I want to face. However, I also know where there’s one, there are thousands more. If this doorway opens again?—”

“It could mean the end of the world as we know it,” I whispered, the words echoing in the frigid air.

He nodded grimly. “Exactly. Most paranormals know very little about our history, let alone the danger this portal represents. But I’m not most paranormals. And personally, I don’t want to meet anything that comes through that door.”

He already had. “The portal’s closed. That’s all that matters,” I said.

“For now.” He shook his head. “Closed doesn’t mean stable. It opened once. It’ll open again. The only question is when. And when that happens, we’ll have a full-blown crisis on our hands.”

Mason’s words lingered in the cold air between us, his gaze unwavering as he tried to bridge the gap I kept so firmly in place. There was an intensity in his eyes—a determination that was both reassuring and unnerving. He wanted to understand, and the weight of his silent questions pressed down on me like the chill in the air.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the chill in the air. “I’ll keep an eye on it,” I said, my voice carefully measured.

“That may not be good enough,” he commented. “This isn’t something one can handle alone. If things get worse—if something more dangerous than a hellspawn comes through—it’s not just your life or mine on the line. We’re talking about the safety of everyone. Paranormals, humans… everyone .”

He was right. I hated it, but he was right. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to trust him—or anyone—with the truth.

“I’m not asking for your whole story,” he continued. “But if you know anything that could help, anything that could keep this thing from spilling over and hurting the people we’re trying to protect—it would go a long way.”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. I considered telling him—just a hint of the truth, something that would let him see why I was so careful, so wary of involving anyone else. But the walls I’d built were too strong, too well-reinforced by years of secrecy and survival.

“I can’t,” I finally whispered.

Mason studied me, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were weighing my words. After a beat, he gave a small nod. “Fine. I understand that you don’t trust easily, but if things get worse, you’ll need people who understand what’s at stake.”

I swallowed, forcing myself to maintain the mask of indifference. “Noted.”

He didn’t push further, but his gaze lingered on me before I finally turned away, the weight of his words and the threat of what lay beyond pressing down on me as I walked off into the night.