Page 20 of The Gargoyle and the Maiden (Nightfall Guardians #1)

It was a good reminder why she was doing this.

Not only so she could grow her herbs and afford an apprenticeship.

It was for everyone’s benefit if the gargoyle’s grip on Solvantis loosened a bit, wasn’t it?

So people could grow their own food. So Betje could use her gifts without breaking the law.

Hannalinde could have roses climbing a trellis at her window.

The doctor cocked the multibladed tool and set it against the skin of her inner elbow while Betje watched, her disapproval etched in lines on her forehead.

“It’s fine,” Idabel reassured her, seconds before Aelbert released the lever.

The device bit into her skin with stinging precision.

The doctor replaced the scarificator with the teacup and turned her arm over on top of it, so her welling blood streamed into the thin porcelain vessel.

The ready flow made her feel queasy, so she turned her head away, looking instead at the faces of the others in the room.

“Not a sight for young women,” Lord Wilkin remarked with something like pleasure, observing her squeamishness.

“That’s enough, now,” Betje snapped, corners of her mouth tipping down. “More than enough. Doctor, you should have plenty.”

Aelbert’s eyes, bright with fascination, didn’t waver from the cup as it slowly filled. Betje took matters into her own hands and plucked Idabel’s wrist up from the table, pulling it over her head and pressing the tea towel firmly on the wound.

“Look at the color,” Aelbert murmured, tilting the cup. “Is it slightly darker than normal? I believe so. The bite has changed your blood composition. More iron, I suspect. I wonder if it would show different properties under a magnet, or if proximity to—”

“Doctor.” Lord Wilkin’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Right. The evidence.” Aelbert tipped the teacup, filling three glass vials and half of a fourth with blood. “This will be very useful.”

“What exactly will you do with it?” Betje asked, sounding tense.

Aelbert opened his mouth eagerly, but Lord Wilkin spoke first. “Whatever His Majesty might require.”

Aelbert sealed the vials with corks and candle wax, then stowed them in a fitted case like they were filled with rubies.

Lord Wilkin produced a silk purse from a drawer and handed it to Idabel.

It was heavier than it looked. Even if it were only filled with coppers, it would pay her guild fees and more.

“For your trouble,” he said, sounding downright cheerful. “This ought to cover any lost wages when the keepers oust you from the Tower.”

Her fingers curled around the coins, feeling them through the pretty purse.

They weren’t just coppers. It held smaller silver coins as well, and at least one gold.

It was a fortune. Everything she’d wished for when she’d sought out a gargoyle’s bite.

But now that she had one—now that she had Brandt —it didn’t feel right to take it.

It didn’t feel right to cast him as the villain when he was her mate.

She would find another way to earn the guild fees. One that didn’t jeopardize him or his position. He would have enough trouble with a human mate.

“I changed my mind,” she said, holding the purse out. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t want to go through with it anymore.”

Aelbert goggled at her, clutching his case to his chest. “It’s too late. I’ve already bottled your blood!”

“Then I’d like to buy it back,” she said as patiently as she could, while sweat beaded on her clammy forehead. The blood loss was beginning to catch up with her.

Lord Wilkin gave her a benevolent smile that made the hair on the back of her neck rise, because there was no kindness behind it.

“My dear, the business between us is finished. You should go now. Enjoy your spoils and speak no more of it. If I learn anyone has bent the ear of the Nadir to complain, you will be sorry, I am sure. I trust I do not need to elaborate on that point?”

He was the picture of politeness, but for all his courtesy it was clearly a threat. Beside her, Betje tensed. She felt it, too. Lord Lamont was powerful. He was connected. And he would use everything at his disposal to ruin them both if they disrupted his plans.

“No, my lord. We understand,” she whispered.

With Betje’s help, she stood, cloth still pressed to her arm and purse clutched in her fist. The butler showed them out.

Once they’d escaped into the palace-quarter streets, Betje grabbed her elbow, tying the tea towel into a better bandage.

“That man was no more the king’s physician than I’m the queen herself.

He might be a scholar, but he’s not a healer.

He would have bled you dry if I hadn’t stepped in. You’re bandaged with a tea towel!”

“It felt like he wanted to bottle me like a specimen.” Idabel shuddered, leaning into Betje, who wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’m glad that’s over.”

Betje’s fae marks flickered on the sides of her face. “I hope is. The fact that they took blood…it makes me worry what they’re going to do with it. Blood is a powerful element.”

“Luckily there’s little tael in mine,” Idabel said wryly. Exhaustion settled over her, whether from the loss of blood or her lack of rest. The other species might squabble over who would replace the gods, but everyone agreed it would not be the humans.

“More than you might think. It’s useful for Seeing.”

“My life isn’t worth watching. If it pleases the king, the good doctor is welcome to spy on me while I sleep or scrub the floors.”

“In the Tower,” Betje reminded her. “If they have access to your eyes, they have access to the Tower.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why would they want to See that? I only work there when the gargoyles are in daysleep.”

Betje sucked her teeth, thinking. “To see the building’s layout? To learn the keepers’ rounds, perhaps?”

“I’ll quit, then. I won’t have the position for long, anyway.”

“A good Seer can look into your past, too,” Betje reminded her quietly. “They can See anything you’ve seen. They’ll be able to See who bit you and all that came before and after. I doubt Lord Wilkin knows any so powerful or unscrupulous, but you might want to warn—”

Idabel didn’t hear the end of her sentence because she was already running.

The Tower’s shadow stretched as long as a clock hand, marking the late evening hour.

She took a servants’ ladder up the center of the tower, lungs burning when she reached Brandt’s tier.

The key he’d given her worked in the door.

The chambers stood empty, polished pieces of armor arranged on the table, ready for his deployment.

His balcony roost was vacant, but she found him in his nesting chamber. Her fingers skimmed his stone features, warm as though they’d been in the sun.

When dusk finally settled fully, the cracking sound of stone crumbling to flesh startled her even though she expected the transformation. He rose from his crouch on the edge of his nest, and the mate bond blazed back to life, filling her with his eager confidence. His eyes found hers immediately.

He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair to draw a deep breath. “What’s wrong? You smell like blood.”

“They took it.” The words tumbled out. “The lord and this strange doctor. But I don’t think he’s really the king’s physician. Betje thinks they could use my blood to See, or worse—”

“Slow down, little rabbit.” His hands framed her face. “Start from the beginning.”

She took a deep breath and explained quickly what had happened, and Brandt’s expression darkened. “You should have never left my nest. You would have been safer if you’d stayed.”

“Betje says they might be able to use me as a spy. They might be looking at your face right now!” Horror set in that she had exposed him so thoughtlessly. She squeezed her lids shut, a sob ripping out of her chest. “I should go! I never should have come here. Everything is such a mess.”

He pinched her chin between his fingers and tipped it up, kissing her forehead between her eyes until she opened them.

“I hope they are looking. I hope they’re listening when I say that if any of them wrong you or use you, they will pay for it dearly.

We know their names. If they trouble you, you can tell the Nadir, and he’ll take care of it. Now you must let me take care of you.”

He stretched out her arm, untying the bloody bandage.

He frowned at the marks that still oozed blood.

Carefully, he bent his head and licked across them.

It was the same eerie, hot-cold sensation as when he’d licked the mating bite, except this time, she could see the bleeding cease and the edges of her skin begin to knit together.

“See? All will be well.”

Still, she couldn’t shake the dread. “I can’t tell anyone. Lord Wilkin said…well, he didn’t say what he’d do if we told. But he made it clear he would retaliate against us. I don’t want to hurt anyone, though.” She wrung her hands.

“Gargoyles are immune to magic, little human,” he reminded her in a fond tone. He cradled her, stroking her hair as he kissed her again and again. “They can’t touch us in the Tower.”

From below came the bright sound of a horn. Brandt stilled, and she realized what it was. The muster call. He was leaving now .

“Don’t go.” The plea broke from her. “Something terrible is going to happen. I just know it.”

“I must.” Genuine regret colored his voice. “All our safety depends on it. But I’ll return, Idabel. Six moons or a little more, that’s all.”

“I’ll miss you every day.”

Another horn blast, more urgent. She followed him into the main chamber, where he buckled on pieces of armor and strapped on his weapons. “Stay here in our nest. If you have trouble, my mother will help you in any way she is able.”

He kissed her fiercely, the mate bond flaring so bright that she gasped.

Then he was gone, launching from the balcony into the darkening night.

In the moonlight, she watched the Sixth Watch take formation like a flock of migrating birds, dozens of gargoyles readying for the long flight south.

Through the bond, she felt Brandt’s focus sharpen, his thoughts turning to war even as a thread of longing for her remained.

“So.” Ghantal’s voice came from behind her. “You’re the human who seduced my son. We have much to discuss.”

Idabel turned to face her mother-in-law, spine straight despite her trembling knees. Six moons suddenly seemed like an eternity.