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The Walker I know is convincing. Confident. Self-assured. The Walker I know speaks with absolute certainty even if it’s a lie. But now the way he analyses me is not so certain at all.

His eyes stray to my mouth and I chew on my lip self-consciously. My ears heat. His sharp eyes are quick to look away, and I notice the apple of his cheek shade. Is he blushing too? I can’t help but to think of yesterday. Of the words he offered when I was going into a full-blown meltdown. Why did you help me? I want to ask, but at the same time I don’t want to ruin whatever this weird, strange, soft version of his ribbing is.

A smile tugs at my lips.

His eyes widen ever so slightly. And a small panic seems to seize him. ‘I have to—’ He points to nowhere, stumbling over his words. ‘I was just…’ He looks at me one last time and disappears.

Well then.

I shake my head and continue on my merry way.

I walk (stumble, really) into the kitchen. I dive into the fridge, and I’m just about to make myself a nutritious breakfast of stale cornflakes, when I hear a strange rumbling noise echo off the wall tiles. Unprompted, the coffee machine makes a low whine, sputters once and then begins to pour into the jug beneath it. A wisp of shadow pirouettes and disappears into the ceiling above.

Chapter Fifteen

The Do-over

I didn’t even know the Stone Angel Library had a HR department.

I sip my coffee and place it back on the table. The swingy chair I’m sitting in squeaks with every bob of my knee. It’s a nervous tick I can’t escape. Delilah can’t escape it either and this brings me immeasurable joy. She won’t look at me, but I know it’s driving her insane. There’s a muscle that’s been twitching beneath her eye the better part of twenty minutes. I stop for a moment, wait until her shoulders drop, and then I start again.

Her head whips towards me, her eyes a fiery blaze. There’s a shudder through the building. There’s a creaking noise, like hinges on a rusted bracket.

And a squat stone gargoyle walks through the office door. The shudder stops. He has large, serpentine eyes, batlike wings, and a snub nose. A nose so snub, his too-big, round spectacles keep falling off it. He waddles in, and the sound of his joints grinding reminds me of a mortar and pestle.

There’s a very sweet little step ladder he ascends to get up into his chair, and once there, he pumps it higher so he can look down at us both. His bushy stone brows bunch, and he frowns. Very serious. Ridiculously cute. He looks at me and shakes his head once. I stop smiling. Yes. You’re right, small, adorable stone creature. How incredibly unprofessional of me to want to make baby noises and try to pinch your plump marble cheeks.

Try it and see what happens, the gargoyles low gravelly voice rasps and I jump in my seat. The chair screams. A teasing smile is there and gone within the space of a second. The gargoyle opens up two folders and lines them beside one another.

He sighs, looks me up and down and then looks at Delilah, who, in a world’s first, looks chastened.

‘What will we do with you, hey?’ He huffs. ‘Delilah, I thought we were turning a new leaf.’ He shakes his head. ‘I’d like to formally apologise, Miller. On behalf of the stone library, this is not how we wish to be represented.’

‘Delilah, it goes without saying what we spoke about earlier is now under review pending trial from the stone angels.’

She scoffs. Crosses her arms, leans back and swings in her chair. I can only see her side profile from next to her. But I don’t miss the way she gulps. Or the way she bites her cheek hard enough to bleed, surely.

I’m off the hook and Delilah is on. What better time to push the envelope.

‘I’d like to host a showcase,’ I say, with more confidence than I actually have. ‘Well, actually, I’d like the library to host a showcase.’

Gargoyle looks surprised.

‘I’ve been helping the residents from Greyfriars Retirement Village put together a collection of short stories and poetry. They’ve been working very hard on them. And I’d like, with your permission obviously, to showcase that work. Maybe invite the paper?’

Gargoyle steeples his fingers in front of him.

‘Very well. Fill in the relevant event submission form and we’ll waive the event hire fee.’ His eyes flit to a very put-out looking Delilah, and then back to me. ‘And Delilah here has just volunteered herself as your event assistant.’

I was not aware there was an event hire submission form, let alone a fee, but this is delightful news. What’s more delightful is I am now in charge of a furious half Fae with full immunity. The stone creature looks at me as though he’s taking my measure and adds, ‘Leave getting in touch with the newspaper to me. I have an old contact there who owes me a favour.’

I can’t help it. I beam. The gargoyle smiles back warmly. Delilah gets up and storms out.

The sunset is always quite spectacular, but today it’s particularly beautiful. Maybe because I finally have a reason to look up.

A half hour ago, I arrived home and told Lavender all about the exhibition, and the prospect of Delilah’s forced cooperation. We’re a few drinks in now. Lav hiccups and then descends into giggles. Stars, she’s a lightweight.

I watch, amused, as she slurs her words and waves her branches with dramatic flourish. ‘What do you want, Miller?’