“Elijah?”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. “Let’s go find that annoying gargoyle.”
CHAPTER 6
Levet quivered as he continued to project his memories into his mother’s unwilling mind, dangerously close to exhaustion.
Sacrebleu. How much longer could he hold the spell?
The fear had barely had time to form when Berthe gave a low groan, her eyes wrenching open to stab him with a malevolent glare.
“Enough.”
Levet halted the memories, but retained control of the magical web that held his mother captive.
She wasn’t looking nearly as impressed as he’d hoped.
“You have seen what I did?” he demanded.
“Oui.”
“And you acknowledge that I faced my enemy with courage?”
She pulled back her lips to emphasize her massive tusks. “I will admit you did not flee like a coward.”
Levet narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps we should begin again.”
“Non,” Berthe rasped, the heat of her fury filling the air. “You behaved with . . . courage.”
Levet scowled. He had stood before the most evil creature ever to have been created and refused to yield.
How many demons could claim such a feat?
None. That was how many.
He grimaced. Non. That wasn’t entirely true. There had been others. But no gargoyles, he hastily reassured himself.
He alone had represented his species.
Which made him excessively special.
“Why is it so hard for you to admit?” he snapped.
Berthe glowered at him, her heavy brow furrowed. “I don’t want you back in the Guild.”
Levet blinked. Well, that was . . . blunt.
“Why? Do you imagine I will somehow contaminate your precious nest?” He curled his snout in disdain. “I can assure you I have no intention of returning to the bosom of my dysfunctional family.”
She made a sound of shock, as if she couldn’t imagine a creature not longing to be a part of her nest.
“Then why do you insist on being returned to the Guild?”
Levet smiled. When he’d traveled to Paris he hadn’t truly known what was driving him.
Now he understood with perfect clarity.
“It’s my right,” he said with simple honesty. “Now tell me why you’re so reluctant to put my name on the Wall.”
Berthe clenched her jaw, clearly loath to confess the truth. Then, perhaps sensing that Levet was stubborn enough to keep her trapped until she shared, she gave a low curse.
“Because you make me . . . less.”
“Less what?”
She turned her head, as if unwilling to meet Levet’s puzzled gaze.
“While you are shunned you are forgotten by my people. But with your name returned to the Wall it will be remembered that you are my son. I will be ridiculed for producing a—”
“A what?” he prompted, his curiosity overcoming his self-preservation.
A common occurrence.
“A freak,” she said with a shudder.
He flinched, feeling like he’d been slapped.
But why?
His mother had devoted his entire childhood to pointing out his numerous flaws. Until he’d nearly allowed her to convince him that he was deformed.
No more.
“I do not make you less, Maman dearest. You were born without a soul,” he informed her, his voice clear and perfectly steady. “And I thank the gods that I am different from you. My life has mattered. Truly mattered. You will never be able to say the same.”
Berthe blinked, almost as if his words had struck a nerve. But even as he leaned forward to savor the brief victory, she had twisted her ugly features into a scowl.
“Release me,” she commanded.
“You will give me what I demand?”
A low growl vibrated the air. “Oui,” she at last managed to spit out.
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Levet.”
Levet grimaced. He had no choice but to trust her word. One more second and he would collapse. Far better to allow her to think he’d released her out of the goodness of his heart.
“Bien. Let’s go,” he said, dropping his hands as the threads of magic unraveled and then disappeared with an audible hiss. He had barely managed to suck in a weary breath when his mother was surging away from the wall, grasping his wing between her claws. “Mon dieu,” he squeaked, as she gave a mighty push with her legs, sending them crashing through the ceiling. “Slow down.”
“Tais-toi,” Berthe snarled, spreading her wings to soar across Paris at an impressive speed.
Dangling at an awkward angle, Levet heaved a resigned sigh.
When was he going to be treated like a hero?
It was all very annoying.
Within a few minutes, they landed at an isolated tributary that dumped into the Seine. There was a long-forgotten entrance to the sewers hidden by a powerful illusion, which Berthe stomped through, not even bothering to glance in Levet’s direction.