Page 12 of When the Weaver Met the Gargoyle (Leafshire Cove Monsters #1)

Chapter 12

Laini

W hat will they do?

Greta breaks the silence. “What type of gargoyle are you?” Her gaze pins his wings.

He clears his throat, his focus sliding to my face. “Allysium.”

I raise my chin and clasp his hand more tightly. We haven’t let go of one another since walking out here. “The best type of gargoyle to have in the tower, watching for storms and threats.”

Greta nods, but she seems absolutely unable to look away. I get the feeling.

An old woman I don’t know—I’ve seen her on high market days—points her finger. “You could kill us all with a thought. Turn us right to stone.”

Sweat beads on Rom’s forehead, and I step forward. “So could many of the creatures here. Like Tully.”

“I totally could,” Tully says, grinning with all her teeth.

Grumlin chuckles at her side.

The butcher has come up behind his daughter, a protective gleam in his black eyes. “But we know her. We don’t know him at all.” The goblin was a brawler in his younger days—at least, that’s what Grumlin once told me.

Sweat beads on my upper lip, but I ignore it. “Well, this is your chance to get to know him,” I say to the group.

Rom straightens and smiles, his gargoyle fangs showing a little at the sides of his full lips. I can’t wait to get that mouth to myself. “I’ll answer your questions if you have any.”

The crowd thaws at that, the females obviously swooning over him—some of the males too. Questions are floated.

“Why did you come to Leafshire Cove?”

“Have you used any of your stone magic since you arrived?”

“Are we going to have another big magical storm this year before Yule? ”

“Did you fly here with Laini? How did that work?”

“Why did you hide your wings from us?”

“So you never had a hunchback? Those were your wings the whole time?”

Rom is more gracious than I would be. I’d have told half of them to get their heads out of their arses. He replies to each inquiry, his answers brief but honest.

“I would have revealed myself sooner if I knew you were all so kind,” he says finally.

The old woman harrumphs at this and hisses something that is surely not kind at all to her friend, a pixie with silver hair and fine wrinkles around her pink eyes. But the rest of those gathered smile and nod. The music starts up again. Rustion stands beside the musicians, trading words with them and helping Rom and me out.

The next reel is more complicated and includes some partner spins and lifts. Rom doesn’t have a clue how to dance it, so we keep to the outskirts of the crowd as he does his best. I love the feel of his big hands wrapped around my waist as he draws me up, then lowers me slowly, dragging me down his chest and stomach. He dips low and kisses the underside of my jaw.

Rustion walks up, and we break apart to say hello.

“A fine party, Lord Mayor,” Rom says.

Nodding, I add, “Thanks for hosting.”

“It’s a joy! And I’m so glad you revealed your identity, Romulus,” Rustion says.

I want to continue with this line of action here, but my stomach isn’t on the same path. It rumbles loudly, giving away the fact that I didn’t manage to eat much today because I was too full of nerves.

Rom grins and kisses my forehead. “Let’s get you some food.”

I link my arm through his, and we traipse to the feasting table. I reach for a piece of chocolate cake while he grabs a plate and begins filling it with slices of roast and some glazed carrots.

“Dessert first is a bold move,” he says.

“You’ve inspired me with your courage.”

His smile broadens. “I have to say I am surprised firstly because they weren’t that frightened. Secondly, because I didn’t think the impromptu interrogation would end in chocolate cake.”

I take up another piece of chocolate cake and slid it onto his plate for him. “Difficult situations should always end with chocolate cake.”

“Hmm.” A wicked glint hits his glowing eyes. “I can think of something even better to indulge in this evening.”

Before I can flirt back, Spark soars into my side, rolls backward, and lands near Rom’s left foot. He growls and spews sparks onto Rom’s boot and then at me, too. I kneel and take his snout gently between my hands.

“What is it, Sparkler? Something wrong?”

He licks me once on the nose, then shoots into the air and flies toward the dark forest beyond Rustion’s grounds. His orange fur and green-scaled body disappear into the night.

“I’m following him.” I set my cake down. “This isn’t normal behavior.”

Rom places his plate beside mine and grunts approval. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding away this whole time!” A sweet but loud voice says behind us.

I turn to see Betilda, the middle-aged orc female who runs the perfumery. She’s wearing a diaphanous dress made of multiple layers of silk, and she’s slicked her large lips with pink gloss. Her orc muscles show under her nearly transparent sleeves, and I’m reminded that she was once a warrior .

“Good to see you, Betilda. May I introduce you officially to my date, Romulus?”

I want to get moving, to chase Spark, but I don’t want to insult Betilda.

She giggles and flaps her eyelashes at Rom. “Oh, please do.”

Rom’s black eyebrow lifts, but he bows shallowly and says, “Nice to meet you.”

“Though you could get away with anything with that face,” she says, eyeing not his face but his arse and wings, “I do give dancing lessons on the side after my shop closes. You are welcome to try a class anytime, handsome.”

Chuckling, he nods. “I do need some professional assistance in that area.”

I can’t help but smile at Betilda flirting openly with a male who is half her age and also my date. She’s incorrigible, but she’s great anyway. She kept Spark for me when I was on a trip to a tapestry tutor.

“We will definitely get in touch,” I say, eyeing the place where Spark flew into the woods. “Thank you so much, Betilda.”

She smiles around her large tusks and gives my shoulder a soft squeeze. “You two have fun tonight. Don’t let the old grouches or young fools bring you down. ”

“I love you, Betilda,” I say, hugging her.

“Yes, yes. And I love you too, lovely girl.” She breaks away and looks at Rom again. “I might want to create a cologne based on you. Would that be all right?”

Rom puts a hand on his chest. “Me?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically.

“As long as you don’t have to sniff me to do it,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice, giving her a wink.

She laughs loudly, beautifully. “I will keep my expert nose to myself. I think your scent should be jasmine, river rock, and um, maybe…”

I jump in. “Something spicy. Maybe like clove?”

“Ooo, yes.” Batilda rubs her hands together. “You are wasted on that loom, Laini!”

I shake my head as she waves farewell and starts toward the cider cart, where Grumlin and Tully are handing out drinks.

Rom meets my pace as I hurry toward the forest. I look over my shoulder to see some folks gesturing toward Rom. I hope their gossip is the fun, sweet type. I trip over a fallen branch, and Rom catches me.

I look up at him. “I just realized I wasn’t nervous at all when everyone noticed us together. Well, I was a touch worried about how they would treat you. But I wasn’t even thinking about them making fun of me or giving me trouble. Maybe I should try focusing on others more often instead of rushing through town and avoiding them.” I laugh at myself.

“Aw, don’t do that, Laini. You are not egotistical. You went through something awful, and now you’re growing through it. I am, too.”

“We’re fantastic.”

He ducks under a branch that wouldn’t even have brushed the top of my head. “We kind of are.”

The forest grows darker as the branches thicken and block out the light of the party and the full moon. Rom stays close enough that I can feel his breath dusting over the back of my neck every once in a while. I love it. I feel safe even though there are likely bears and wolves not far off. No beast will want to tangle with the monster at my back.

A little snort has me lifting my head, and I spot Spark in a small clearing. He is flying in erratic circles in the wheaten glow of the moon, his wings tapping the tree branches one moment and the tips of some tall grass and pale flowers the next. There’s another shape in the clearing—small, white as the flowers nearby. What is it?

Rom comes up beside me, and we work our way through some dormant blackberry bushes to reach Spark.

“It’s another dragonfox,” Rom says.

Sure enough, the moon-white shape is another dragonfox, but one without the color of Spark’s fur and scales. This creature is completely snowy in hue. It rolls onto its back, wings tucked, and coos up at Spark. Spark wheels down and barks out orange sparks at the other dragonfox. The white one leaps into the air, and they fly over our heads, going back toward the party. My heart is light, and I exhale in relief.

“He found a friend!” I clasp my hands together and watch them fade into the forest, sparks dancing in their wake. Leaning on Rom’s arm, I continue, “He’s been acting so odd, do you remember?”

“Aye. I saw him fleeing town like he was on a mission.”

A laugh bubbles from me, and he laces an arm around my waist.

“I thought something was wrong, but all this time, it’s just been a girlfriend.”

Rom chuckles and turns me to face him. The moon paints his horns, sharp cheekbones, and strong jaw gold. He tucks a fallen lock of hair behind my ear, and pleasant shivers skim my arm. I feel like I’ve had four meads instead of one.

“May I?” I ask, going on tiptoe.

“Kiss me?”

“Yes.” I put my hands on his powerful shoulders, loving the sensation of his stone-hard body against me.