She points me out to a woman at her side.
Ella, if I had to guess. She waves, and I awkwardly wave back.
I stiffen when Summer and several others, including Ella, leave and soft music plays. They file in again shortly, and I watch with fascination, catching Summer’s eye as she walks down with another man. I’m unsure what to think of this, but it is over quickly, and Summer waves for me to join them at the front.
Wrapping my arm around her, I’m easily the tallest one of the group, towering over the others by at least a head, if not more.
“Guys, this is Zuriel,” Summer says.
The one I believe is Ella eyes me. “The gargoyle? I can see now where he gets his nickname.” She chuckles. “Fuck, you’re tall!”
The woman closest to Ella—she must be Rebecca—laughs, offering me her hand. “Do you play basketball? If you don’t, you should. You’d make a killing.”
Taking her hand, I make sure I’m gentle with it.
I’m still inhumanly strong. As Summer’s father discovered when he first shook my hand.
“I do not,” I say, having heard of the sport—she is not the first to make this joke—but knowing nothing about it. “Maybe I should start.”
“Yes, you definitely should.”
We continue with a light banter before the brides are called away. Ella hugs Summer goodbye and leaves with the rest of her party. Summer lingers back with me.
“Do you like her?” she asks, hopeful.
I cock my head. “She is fine.”
Her shoulders sag, and her eyes roll to the ceiling. “You don’t like anyone.”
“I’ve lived long enough to have high expectations. It will take more than one meeting to garner my favor.”
Taking my hand, she squeezes it. “You’ll like her in time, I know it. If there’s anyone in this world I would bet on you liking, it’s Ella. She’s a good friend. Rebecca is pretty cool too.”
“You’re probably right.”
As dusk nears, we race back to the hotel, barely making it on time. As we enter our room, I transform out of my man suit and back into the stone skin that I know. Summer shuts the door just as my wings slice through the flesh of my back, ripping out of my fading human body. She tugs on my hand, leading me to the bed, and I grin, eager to see her white lingerie again.
The night passes quickly. Summer showers and passes out the moment her head hits the pillow. I stay up for a while, sitting in a chair by the window. The view is interesting, something I could have never imagined. Silver and gray buildings line the street, their countless windows sparkling, reflecting the headlights of cars. Stores are marked with a mirage of neon colors and an industrialized aesthetic. At the far end of the street, there is a park with a small patch of grass, a few benches, and some trees, but there’s no wilderness, no pure darkness.
The bats did not follow us, and I am glad they did not. They are not suited for a place such as this. With the help of her father’s experience and tools, Summer and I have constructed several large bat houses in the forest around her family’s yard. We have built a few up outside Hopkins’ house as well.
Despite the city’s dazzlement, I long for Elmstitch and the countryside.
Humans have advanced a long way since I was last amongst them. Gone are the gothic cathedrals and castles, replaced by hotels and city halls. There is not a stone gargoyle in sight.
Closing the drapes of the windows, I turn toward the bed. Summer is on her stomach, her legs tangled within the blankets that have fallen to her waist. A small snore leaves her parted lips.
I do not tire as she does and spend many of our nights just watching her—and watching over her. When sleep took me that first time several months back, my dreams felt like I was back within the shadowy realm of my mind. I did not like it.
But I pretend for her. I will do anything for her.
My life is different now. It is my own. As of yet, there has not been any communication with those from above. I hope they never have a reason to reach out to me. Now that I have a taste of freedom—true freedom, with barbeque ribs and the taste of Summer’s lips with syrup on them—I want nothing more.
Climbing gently into the bed, I curl my body around hers, using my wings to shield us both.
I drift.
At five a.m. sharp the alarm blares, and I jump out of bed, brandishing my wings, baring my fangs at our attacker. Summer mumbles, flips over, and turns off the incessant beeping.
