Yes, he knew the eccentric lead vocalist of Midnight Magick. He had dined with him. Partied with him. Early in Remi’s career, he had even toured with the band, opening for them in sold-out venues. While he wouldn’t consider Envy a friend, they had been on good terms for years.
Goddess, it made him fucking ill. Not only was Luka’s tormentor still alive and well, but he led a privileged life of fame and wealth. Attractive, charming, and talented, people around the world adored him. Even critics of his music could find no fault in his personality.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Beside him, Luka flinched, but Skye only laughed.
“You wouldn’t get within a hundred yards of him.”
Ruger’s lip curled. “He’s just a mage.”
“No,” she corrected, her tone deadly serious. “He is ancient, clever, and a formidable mystic.”
Ruger deflated, his righteous anger tempered by genuine trepidation. While some might think mystics nothing more the supercharged witches, that would be a gross misrepresentation of their abilities.
He had met many gifted mages in his time, but none that he believed unstoppable. Mystics, however, harnessed primordial energy—a nearly limitless source of celestial power.
But the practice left deep scars. It twisted their magic, corrupted it. It warped their minds and darkened their hearts, making them treacherous and unpredictable.
Or so the stories went.
Like humans, Otherlings weren’t immune to exaggeration that sometimes veered into myth and legend. Speculation abounded, rumors and hearsay spread like wildfire, making it difficult to separate fact from fiction.
For him, he tended to believe the truth resided somewhere in the middle. He didn’t fear them necessarily, but he did view them with a certain amount of caution.
“What do you suggest we do?” he asked, careful not to let panic seep into his voice.
The possessive part of him hated the idea of his mate being bound in any way to the musician. The softer, more protective instincts worried for Luka’s safety.
If Envy still had influence over him, what happened when he found out his curse had been broken?
“I don’t know,” Skye answered, her brow creased in uncharacteristic concern. “I suggest we figure it out soon, though.”
“I don’t like the way you said that.” Of course, he wanted an immediate solution, but something in her tone tripped his alarm bells. “What do you know?”
Meeting his eyes across the table, she took a deep breath and released his slowly. “He’s on the guest list for the festival.”
Chapter five
Ofallthetechnologiesand conveniences the twenty-first century had to offer, Luka particularly enjoyed the television. Granted, he found modern humor odd and confusing, but he very much liked the magic box that showed him plays and current news.
Sure, it was an extravagance, but then again, so was everything else. The shower with heated water on demand. Comfortable clothes. A warm bed. Clean water and plenty of food to eat.
According to Ruger, most people considered those things basic necessities. To Luka, however, they represented pure indulgence.
And sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved it. He had done nothing to earn his good fortune. In fact, most days, he didn’t even leave the cabin.
Ruger hadn’t confined him indoors. Quite the opposite actually. His mate regularly encouraged him to venture outside and explore the Manor grounds. Dinner with Skye Maddock, however, had been enough to prove that no matter how many years had passed, some things never changed.
News had spread throughout the castle, reaching both staff and guests, about hisunusualheritage. Though they readily welcomed demons into their midst, most of them believed gargoyles existed only in myth.
Once inside the castle, he had been careful not to make eye contact. He hadn’t approached anyone, and he’d done his best to make himself appear as non-threatening as he knew how.
None of it mattered.
Everywhere he went, the stares followed. Some looked at him with apprehension. Others with mere curiosity. It stung to be judged by his biology rather than his character, but he had become accustomed to such reactions.
Ruger…had not.
