here.”
Even as the words left her lips, Jaelyn was scooping her arms beneath the Sylvermyst. She didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t linger at the townhouse.
Not when the Three Stooges might decide to make a sudden reappearance.
She rose to her feet with a fluid motion. Ariyal was heavy, but her innate strength gave her the ability to sling him over her shoulder as she headed out of the room and down the curved staircase. Unfortunately, he had a good eight inches on her, and considerably more bulk, which was going to make toting him around London more than a little awkward.
Reaching the bottom of the steps, Jaelyn paused as she caught the unmistakable scent of granite coming through the front gate.
Gargoyle?
It wouldn’t be that uncommon in London. There was a large Guild in the city. But they didn’t usually stroll up to the door, did they?
Hastily Jaelyn cloaked herself as well as Ariyal in the thick shadows only a Hunter could create. So long as she didn’t move there was no demon who could detect her presence.
Prepared for a lumbering monster, Jaelyn froze at the sight of the tiny demon who stepped across the threshold.
Well, she’d gotten the gargoyle part right, she wryly conceded. There was no mistaking the gray, grotesque features and stunted horns. Or the long tail that was lovingly polished. But she wasn’t sure the Guild would claim this three-foot version with large, gossamer wings in shades of crimson and blue.
Levet.
The last time that Jaelyn had seen the miniature gargoyle had been in Russia where he’d helped Tane rescue her from the cave where Ariyal had left her tied and guarded by Yannah while he went to destroy the babe.
Perhaps sensing that he was being watched, the gargoyle halted in the center of the foyer, his tail twitching as he peered through the gloom.
“Hello?” he called softly, his voice laced with a French accent. “Ma cherie? Where are you, you tiresome demon?”
Jaelyn lifted her brows at the realization that it wasn’t coincidence that had brought the gargoyle to this particular house.
“Searching for someone, Levet?” she demanded, allowing the shadows to dissipate.
“Eek!” With a tiny jump, the demon turned to study her with wide gray eyes. “Oh! Jaelyn.”
“Who were you expecting?”
He wrinkled his tiny snout. “I thought I smelled ...”
“Smelled?” she prompted.
“Yannah. Her scent is lingering on you.”
She grimaced, still annoyed with Yannah and her powerful mother.
“Sorry, I haven’t seen her since she shoved me through a portal and I landed face-first in the gutter.”
Levet cleared his throat, looking oddly uneasy as he rubbed one of his horns.
“She ... um ... she did not happen to mention where she was headed, did she?”
“At a guess, I’d say the pits of the nearest hell,” Jaelyn muttered.
“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Do you have directions?”
Jaelyn blinked. Was he serious?
“No, but I’m miserably certain she’ll be tracking me down in the next few days.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh, pacing the foyer as he considered her words.
“I suppose I have no choice but to wait with you then. I have been attempting to find her since she left Russia.” His wings fluttered in frustration. “She is annoyingly elusive.”
“You’ve been following her for the past three weeks?”
“Oui.”
“Why?”
“Why?” The gargoyle blinked, seemingly astonished by the question. “Because she kissed me.”
“That’s it?” Jaelyn had a brief memory of Yannah grabbing the tiny gargoyle and kissing him before she’d planted her fist into his face, knocking him across the cave. “She kissed you.”
“What can I say?” He lifted his hands in a helpless motion. “I am French.”
Jaelyn abruptly laughed.
There was something oddly endearing about the small gargoyle.
“Well, you’re certainly tenacious,” she said.
The gray gaze shifted toward the unconscious Sylvermyst draped over her shoulder.
“I could say the same of you.”
Jaelyn’s lips flattened. “Not by choice.”
Levet wagged his heavy brows. “Non?”
Jaelyn frowned. Did the silly creature think that she’d knocked Ariyal unconscious to drag him off like she was some sort of cavewoman?
Not a wholly repulsive thought, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind.
Perhaps if she had him alone in her lair for a few nights she could rid herself of the raw, pulsing awareness that he stirred deep inside her.
Just for an instant the vivid image of Ariyal’s lean body spread across her black satin sheets seared through her mind. Would his eyes shimmer with a pure bronze as she slowly explored him from his head to the tips of his toes? Or perhaps she would tie him to the hand-carved headboard