Page 6 of Never Been Gargoyled (Harmony Glen #4)

Feydin

S he should be running away. Screaming. Packing her things or, even better, abandoning them where they were. Not offering her hand and giving me a smile that made my knees crack.

“Run,” I bellowed. There, that was better.

She blinked. “Sorry, I’m not into exercise. Although…” Her gaze swept through the hall and foyer beyond. “I have a feeling I’ll be putting in my time trying to get this place in shape.” Her low laugh rang out, tickling down my spine, thawing me even more.

Fissures appeared on my arms. My glorious, stony arms! And my heart…

Thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud-thud.

“No…” I wailed, spinning and racing in the other direction.

“Why are you running?” she called out, scooting after me. “Don’t leave yet. We just met. I haven’t offered you an éclair. No, wait. No éclair for you today. I ate them already. How about a nice slice of bread? I could toast it in the oven and slather it with butter.”

I halted in the foyer, trying to find a place to hide.

Why in all the hells was I doing that?

“I’m not trying to run. In fact…” I reeled around, finding her much too close, well within my personal boundary zone. A quick heft, and I’d laid her over my shoulder, her ripe ass pointed toward the ceiling and her lush thighs draped across my chest.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed, slapping her hands onto my back. “Um… Is this some sort of gargoyle welcome tradition?”

“I’m not welcoming you,” I growled, turning and rushing to the front door.

I whipped it open and started through, only for my wings to smack painfully against the frame, bringing me to a teeth-jarring halt.

Grumbling about the brain I appeared to have lost touch with, I tucked my wings in and rushed through the opening, across the porch and down the steps, and over to her vehicle, where I plunked her on the ground. “Go.”

She looked up at me. Hells, she was sweet. All curves and pretty sunset hair and brown eyes I could?—

No, I was not attracted to her. She was essentially prey and one did not swoon over prey. Hells, I hoped not.

“Could you do something for me?” she asked, cocking her head.

I scowled. Surely that would drive her away. “What?” I had no idea why I’d said that. Now would be a good time to stomp my feet, thunder at the sky, and frighten her .

For whatever reason, I actually didn’t want to scare her. The thought of that smile leaving her face, of her cringing away from me made my heart pinch tight.

Heart…

“Hells!”

Her eyes widened before her cute brows drew together. “Hells?”

“My heart should not be thudding.”

“Well, you did just carry me out of my house and over to my car. Maybe it was the exertion? You should work out more if you’re feeling out of breath already.

Although, I’m not one to talk, since I don’t generally enjoy working out.

I’m more of a hands-on kind of woman in that I can work all day in a garden and never feel as if I’m getting exercise.

But put me on a treadmill, and I not only go flying off the end, but I also smack onto my belly and lay there, groaning. In fact?—”

“This is not your house!”

“Sure it is. My great-aunt Helga left it to me in her will. We were pretty close, though only through letters while I was growing up. My dad was estranged from her, so he didn’t visit her unless he felt he had to, but that didn’t stop me.

We corresponded at least weekly. When I moved out, I visited her all the time in the nursing home, though she didn’t know who I was the past few years.

Early-onset dementia sucks, don’t you agree?

” She didn’t pause for an answer but kept speaking rapid-fire.

“She never married or had children herself, and my dad and I are her only surviving relatives. Dad was pissed when he didn’t inherit the estate.

I assume he had wild thoughts of selling the property off for condos. ”

“Condos?” I bellowed.

“Yes.” She glanced toward the manor house. “Four or so, I think. Anyway, that’s not happening. I’m going to fix this place up and live in the manor. I’ll restore the grounds and turn it into a botanical garden I’ll open to the public.”

My snarl ripped out, I swear making the ground tremble. “What?”

“Botanical garden. Oh, are you hard of hearing? You’re yelling a lot. You should consider seeing a specialist. The hearing aids they make nowadays are much better at screening out all but what you want to listen to, and they’re nearly invisible. No one would notice you’re wearing them at?—”

“I’m not hard of hearing!”

She smirked. “I might be if you keep yelling.”

My wings drooped. All of me drooped. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no problem. You must be the enthusiastic type. So, back to my request. See, I have some heavy boxes in my car I didn’t bring in yet. I’d planned to lighten the load in each and make more trips, but seeing as you’re here with me, and you’re all gorgeously muscled, maybe you could?—”

I scowled. “You think I’m gorgeously muscled?”

“Aren’t you?” She stared at my arms. My bare chest. My thighs revealed below my loincloth.

I’d made myself don something rather than fly around naked like I had last night. Helga would’ve chided me if she saw me without clothing—and tittered, saying something about my ass. She’d been as bold as… “You’re Helga’s great-niece?”

“Yes, I just told you that.” Her sunny smile didn’t fade one bit. “Could you do that for me? They’re in the back.” She left me—left me! –and strode around to the rear of her vehicle, pushing a button to make the hatch open.

I followed like a puppy, though I should be storming around, flapping my wings to create a great wind.

Scaring her away from the estate.

“There they are.” She pointed to two stacks in the back. “You don’t need to put them in the right rooms. The front parlor would be fine. I can hold the door open for you.”

Before I could stop myself, I was grabbing two boxes, hefting each onto my shoulders, and following her up the front steps and inside the house. She stopped in the left parlor.

“Where do you want them?” I asked gruffly.

“Oh, anywhere will do.” She vaguely waved to the floor.

“No, I meant which rooms?”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet.” She tapped my forearm.

Thud. Thud-thud-thud-thud. My heart took off like I’d burst off the roof and flown halfway toward the moon.

A gargoyle’s heart only?—

“This one can go to my bedroom.” She pointed to the box on the right. “And the other belongs in the kitchen. You’re really a sweetie, aren’t you? ”

I was not a sweetie. I was a fierce, growly gargoyle whose sole role was to protect this estate from intruders.

But…

Dazy wasn’t actually an intruder. She said she inherited the manor and grounds from Helga.

“Prove it,” I barked, lowering one box onto the kitchen counter and feeding her a solid, gargoyle glare that should put her in her place.

“Prove what, that you’re a sweetie?”

Why was her voice going all cutesy and high-pitched?

“I am not a puppy,” I roared.

“No, you’re a gargoyle. Puppies are adorable, though, don’t you think? I like dogs, but I adore cats, so I might get a kitten once I’m settled. I love the way cats are so independent, don’t you?”

I slammed my fist onto the counter. “Prove you own this estate.”

“Oh, that?” She peered around. “Where did I leave my purse? When I remember, I set it on the kitchen counter, but I’m all discombobulated, and I may have put it somewhere else.” Frowning, she tapped her chin. “The parlor?” She spun and trotted down the hall, entering the room off the foyer.

With a huff, I followed, the box for her bedroom still perched on my shoulder.

“There it is,” she crowed, rushing over to the large, floral-printed bag sitting on one of the sofas.

Lifting it, she spun to face me. She unzipped it and tugged out a sheaf of papers.

“I worried someone might question me. Imagine the police stopping by, thinking someone’s squatting on the property or planning to vandalize it.

So I made copies. The original, of course, is in my safe that’s…

” Her frown deepened. “Oh, yes, it’s still in my car.

Will you be a sweetie and bring it in as well?

You can put it in the library. Such a grand room.

All those books! I need to go exploring there soon.

Dusting, most likely too.” Her breath caught.

“Oh, yes, you asked for proof I own the estate.” She thrust out the papers.

“Here it is. It’s legal and proper and all that. ”

I perused the documents, finding that indeed, Helga had left the property to Dazy.

Which meant…

My role was not to drive her from the estate.

My role was to protect her .