you mean? You looked like a gar—” She stops, her eyes narrowing in indignation. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me neither Jaxon nor my dad showed you what you look like as a gargoyle?”
“Of course they didn’t show me. How could they when I’m…” I hold up my hands and swivel them around in a demonstration that I’m human and not stone.
“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes. “Do you think I didn’t take at least a dozen pics of you? My badass gargoyle cousin? Give me a break.”
“Hold on. You actually took pictures of me?”
“Of course I did. You’re, like, the coolest creature in existence. Why wouldn’t I?” She reaches for her phone. “Want to see?”
My stomach flutters a little, butterflies waking up for a reason that has nothing to do with Jaxon or Katmere Academy and everything to do with what might possibly be in that picture. I know I shouldn’t get upset about what I look like when it’s so not important in the grand scheme of things. But I can’t help it. I apparently have horns.
“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”
I close my eyes and reach for the phone.
As I do, I take a deep breath, hold it for the count of five, and blow it out slowly.
Then I take another breath and do the same thing.
When I’m finally ready for whatever monstrosity is going to be waiting for me—or as ready as I can be—I open my eyes and stare at my picture.
16
Nothing Wrong with
Being a Little
Horny
My heart explodes the second I see the picture Macy selected because—holy shit—I really am a gargoyle. I think, up until right now, there was a tiny part of me that didn’t believe it.
But there I am, in all my gargoyle glory.
And while I am still totally freaked out by this revelation, even I have to admit, I’m nowhere near as hideous as I was afraid I would be.
Thank God.
In fact, as it turns out, me as a gargoyle doesn’t look like much of a monster at all. In fact, I look an awful lot like…me. Same long curly hair. Same pointy little chin. Even the same big boobs and ridiculously short stature. It’s me…just made of light-gray stone.
I mean, yeah, there are a few additions. Like the short horns at the top of my head that curl back just a little. The giant kick-ass wings that are almost as big as I am. The relatively short claws at the ends of my fingers.
But—and believe me, I look closely—there is not a tail. Thank you, universe.
I can deal with the horns. Not happily, but I can deal with them, as long as I don’t also have to deal with a tail.
Macy gives me a minute, several minutes actually, before she finally says, “See, you look amazing. Total badass.”
“I look like a statue.” I raise one brow. “Although I guess I could wait out a fight and win that way. Eventually. Boredom be thy sword.”
Macy shrugs as she picks up a can of Dr Pepper and drinks it through a strawberry Twizzler straw. “I’m sure gargoyles have all sorts of cool powers.” She waves a hand, and a second Dr Pepper floats across the room to me.
“See?” I pluck my drink out of thin air and take a long sip—also through the Twizzler straw because, while I might be a gargoyle, I’m not a total animal. “You can do cool things like wiggle your fingers and get a full face of makeup. All I can do is—”
“Save the world?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“And I’m pretty sure you don’t know enough about who and what you are to decide if it’s an exaggeration or not. Grace, being a gargoyle—” She breaks off, blows out a long breath, even as she runs a hand through her bizarre pink hair. “Being a gargoyle is, like, the coolest thing ever.”
“How would you know? Marise told me there hasn’t even been one for a thousand years.”
“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying. You’re one of a kind! Isn’t that awesome?”
Not really, no. Being the center of that kind of attention has never exactly been my vibe. But I’ve come to know Macy—and the current look on her face—well enough to know that there’s no use arguing with her about this.
Still, I can’t stop myself from saying, “‘Awesome’ might be a little bit of an exaggeration.”
“No, it’s not. Everyone thinks so.”
“And by everyone, you mean you and your dad?” I joke.