Her phone was on the sofa, out of reach, but if he stretched enough, he might be able to reach it. He did so slowly to avoid waking her, bending down so that the arm behind her could reach her phone. It took several more seconds before he brushed it with his fingertips and then a few more attempts before he grabbed it. He knew her security code to unlock it. Once he did, the security app was visible as she hadn’t closed the screen. He checked the cameras for visuals of the exterior for any indications that something was off. Nothing seemed amiss.
But human technology could only go so far. It didn’t have the instincts of a shifter. He needed to get out there to assess for himself.
With utmost reluctance, he pulled his arm out from behind Janie. He then lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom. She stirred. He entered her bedroom, which had the lights on. Her space was bright and inviting, just like her. She’d designed it in a French-country style with rich yellows and blues before she’d started adding Moroccan influences. The comforter and blue sheets were twisted as if she’d tossed and turned in her nightmare. When he placed her on the bed, she roused.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her eyelids hooded.
“I carried you to your bed.”
“Yesss.”
The sensual undertone jolted blood straight to his groin. He pulled the sheets over her and covered her with the comforter.
She blinked her eyes open slightly wider. “You’re not staying?”
Sweet starlight, he’d give anything to be able to do so. But she didn’t want him there for anything other than comfort after a nightmare. “I have to go back on patrol. I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need me.”
During those three heartbeats where she stared at him from her bedroom eyes, he almost chucked every responsibility to the world to crawl into bed beside her.
“Okay.” She curled onto her side and closed her eyes.
It took another few seconds before he spurred himself back into action. He bent down and kissed her forehead. Then he forced himself to take one step after the other out of her bedroom, preventing himself from inhaling her scent as it would drive him back toward her. Each step was heavy and weighed with conflict.
After he exited her bedroom, he leaned forward and released a massive exhale. When he caught his reflection on a small mirror hanging on the wall, he scowled at himself. He was doing the right thing—and it sucked.
Arto rubbed the back of his neck before he made himself walk to her front door and open it. The cool night air hit him like a reality check. Although it was so unwelcome compared to Janie’s warm apartment, it reminded him that he had to be out here. Not only would he be protecting her, but he deserved some sort of punishment after being the one to give her that damn book.
Cloaking himself with gargoyle magic once more, he brought out his wings and flew to her rooftop. He mounted himself back in statue form, his stone cold against the night beneath the waxing moon.
Throughout the rest of his shift, he visualized scenario after scenario of what they could be doing if he stayed inside with her, if he confessed how he truly felt, if she told him she also had feelings for him… With the barriers down, he’d hold her and kiss her and touch her the way he longed to do.
But his feelings weren’t reciprocated, so he shouldn’t torture himself with fantasies that wouldn’t ever come true. No matter how he perceived hope from the glances or the timbre of her voice, the truth was as cold as his stone facing the night breeze. Janie considered him a friend and nothing more. And most definitely not her mate.
JANIE
A few days passed with no incidents. Janie focused on work and attempted to shake off the anxiety that had clung to her like a cloak ever since Larissa had the vision.
The next afternoon, she headed across the river to Harvard Square where she was meeting Larissa for lunch. It had rained last night, and the streets still glistened. She was supposed to meet Larissa outside the train station, but the cool breeze sent her to find warmth inside a bookstore. She texted Larissa to let her know where she was and then perused options on the tables near the front.
“Hey,” Larissa said when she arrived a few minutes later. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, the incident in the library was a close one.” Janie smiled as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand in a dramatic gesture. She motioned around them at the bustle in the bookstore. “But it looks like a typical December day with people doing their holiday shopping and getting a bite to eat.”
“Eating sounds good to me. Ready?”
They avoided talking about demons as they headed to a sandwich shop; the brick sidewalks were too highly trafficked by people who could overhear. After they placed their orders at the food counter, they carried their lunch over to a table.
“I know what you mean, though,” Larissa said. “Trust me, I was very on edge these past few days. And you could feel the tension pulsing through the compound. You could slice it with a sword.” She motioned with a hand strike down toward her grilled chicken and avocado sandwich.
Janie swallowed the bite of her delicious Italian grilled caprese panini and then leaned back. “That sounds rough.”
“While the sentries were on watch, Roman and I sought answers. While I talked to some witches about magic, he contacted the Council to notify them of what occurred and to find out what they thought. Both the witches and the gargoyles confirmed that it sounded like the danger was minimal and most likely averted but to continue to be vigilant. He took that to heart and paced across the rooftop like a caged tiger itching to burst out of his fur. He’s finally started to settle down. How is Arto doing?”
“Okay, I think.” Janie pictured the way he held her and carried her to bed. In her semi-dream state, she thought it meant something more. When she pictured it, she blushed and glanced away.
“Janie, what aren’t you telling me?” Larissa prodded.
Of course she could read her.
