Her eyes widened. “What is it?”
“The cavalry,” he muttered with a grimace. “Unfortunately.”
“Why unfortunately?”
Salvatore turned his head to watch the drain cover in the middle of the cement floor shoot upward, followed by a small gray form pushing out of the hole.
“Because the only thing worse than being stuck in this cell is being rescued by that.”
Once clear of the drain, Levet gave himself a shake like a wet dog to regain his usual lumpy shape, a smirk curling his lips as he met Salvatore’s resigned frown.
“Oh, Wilma, I’m home.”
Chapter Six
Obviously less conflicted about their rescue, no doubt because she had yet to spend any quality time with the annoying pest, Harley hurried toward the edge of the cell, kneeling beside the silver bars.
“Levet,” she breathed, her voice softening in a way that made Salvatore grit his teeth. How the hell had he become the bad guy, while the stunted gargoyle was treated like a long lost friend? “What are you doing here?”
Levet waddled forward, careful to keep a distance from the bars. Even gargoyles were allergic to silver.
“Ma belle, you did not believe I would abandon you to a pack of mangy dogs?”
“How did you follow us?”
“Fah.” He waved a clawed hand. “As if I could be outwitted by a mere witch.”
“Stop preening and get us the hell out of here,” Salvatore growled.
“I see that you are in your usual charming mood,” Levet sniffed, carefully reaching through the bars to pat Harley’s hand. “I do not envy you, poor Harley, for being trapped with this foul beast.”
She shot Salvatore a taunting glance. “You have no idea.”
“Levet, do you remember that conversation we had about your wings and whether or not they remain attached to your body?” Salvatore said, his soft tone making the gargoyle take a hasty step backwards.
“Bully.” His tail twitched. “If it were not for your lovely companion, I would leave you here to rot.”
“Just hurry, gargoyle.”
Moving to the door of the cell, Levet studied the lock, his heavy brow lowering.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“The lock has been spelled.”
“I thought that no witch could outwit you?”
Levet managed to look offended. “I can blast through it, but you are always so testy when I blow things up.”
Salvatore muttered a curse. “Perfect.”
Levet tilted back his head and tested the air. “There are six curs in the house and three more outside.” He stabbed Salvatore with a questioning glance. “Can you overpower them?”
“No.”
“Some king you are…” Levet bit off his words, his gaze sliding toward Harley as he belatedly recalled the reason for Salvatore’s lack of power. “Oh.”