“Nor has any gargoyle loved a human. It is… not in their nature, in any of our natures.”
There’s the sound of humming as the angel considers. “The inadequacy of his kind was never a concern, since the failsafe of stone was powerful enough to keep the realms and their inhabitants safe. However, since Zuriel has been on this Earth far longer than any of his kind, it’s possible he adapted to his environment. You have shown me something truly remarkable, and such discoveries are worthy of reconsideration.”
Before I can form a question, they press a hand against my chest, and I’m thrust away, out of the church, past the graveyard, and beyond the light of stars.
Chapter31
The Stranger at Dawn
Summer
Weak light ebbsinto my room as the first of winter’s snowflakes gather on the skylight. At long last, I’ve slept through an entire night.
Thrusting my hand under my pillow, I search for the talon. It’s gone.
My heart sinks. I’m not sure what Hopkins thought I might accomplish,summoning an angel.Echoes from the dream slowly return to me. With sweetness, I remember Zuriel’s tender goodbye, the way he wrapped me up and kissed my brow, but as I recall the conversation that followed, my stomach churns.
Zuriel’s eternal entombment was arewardfor our success. We weren’t expected to succeed. The angel didn’t really speak of him like he was more than a tool, surprised my gargoyle could ever love.
I didn’t even get the chance to speak to Zuriel, to say goodbye, to tell him that I love him. I wish I hadn’t waited. I wish I had told him I loved him long before becoming trapped in the darkness, filled with despair.
Turning over, I grab my phone from the nightstand and start browsing my email. There’s one of note about a position I applied for several months back. They want to interview me. It’s a position I’m qualified for with responsibilities I wanted, except now, no matter how many times I read the email, I’m not inspired to reply.
It’s impossible to imagine returning to the real world. Glancing at my bottle of antidepressants, I hope they’ll kick in soon. It’s been three weeks.
I shove my phone away, resolving to confront Hopkins about his present.
Lazily, I take my time showering, basking in the hot water, and my return to my own bathroom. My jeans are loose, and my makeup is too dark for my new pallor. Examining my reflection, I wonder if the new glasses seem too bold on my narrowed face, and when my gaze lands on my unblemished torso, I quickly cover it with my sweater.
After giving Oyster a quick scratch, I race downstairs, bypass the kitchen, and beeline for the front door, leaving before Mom notices. She’s gone from trying to get me a boyfriend to trying to get me a therapist. She knows several, all of whom are her friends.
I don’t know which is worse.
The drive to the museum is rote, and I barely glance at the passing houses and buildings. It’s hard to believe I’ve done this drive nearly every day for over a year. Back when I first took this job, I thought it would only be for a couple of months, no longer than a season.
When I park next to Bread & Bean, I pause, staring through the window. Business is bustling, returned to the life it had before. John’s sister is running the place now, and confusingly, I’m happy for her—she always loved the coffee shop most.
Hands deep in my coat pockets, I walk past the alleyway where John died. I don’t know what happened to his remains and assume there wasn’t anything for the police to find. I can only imagine his corpse was obliterated or eaten by worms, vanishing like Adrial’s previous host..
Everyone is moving forward.
Hopkins’ Museum of the Strange is as I last saw it, the curtains still drawn. Though there’s a new sign posted to the front door, written in Hopkins’ scratchy handwriting.
Reopening today.
I hesitate at the threshold, wondering if this was a terrible idea.
Swallowing, I unlock the door and enter.
The museum has been put to rights, the gift shop bookcases repaired, and items returned to their shelves. There’s the lingering scent of cleaning products. Hopkins is nowhere to be seen, but the room isn’t empty. A strange man stands behind the front counter, wiping it down.
Seeing me, he stops. A new employee?
Instead of introducing myself, I freeze, my eyes fixed on the empty corner behind him.
Zuriel is gone.
Breath-catching, I stare at the empty space.
