The wind rushed up her nostrils and drove down her throat, stealing away her breath. She closed her eyes to shut out both the pain of her throbbing shoulder and the sight of the ground that she knew was far, far below. The flap of wings filled her ears, the gargoyle’s stony arms and legs enclosing her like a cage.
If this wasn’t Luc, and if the park wasn’t protected, then this had to be the new boy. Dimitrie. His scales are beautiful, Gabby thought as her head grew heavy.
The rhythm of the gargoyle’s beating wings changed, and Gabby forced one eye open. They were descending toward the top of a building, its flat roof covered with raised garden beds filled with snow-dusted crushed gravel. And there was a man.
She closed her eyes again as Dimitrie landed.
“Stop where ye are, gargoyle.” The brusque voice rang familiar to Gabby. She was still cradled in a pair of arms. She startled when she saw that they were no longer covered with shimmering blue scales.
“Who do ye have?” The voice had grown closer and had softened. Gabby forced open her eyes again. It was the man from Nolan’s apartment. The one who’d opened the door for her and asked her if she’d be all right. The gargoyle had brought her to H?tel Bastian.
“Give her to me,” the man said, but Dimitrie, in his human form, clutched Gabby closer.
“Fine,” the man said with a sigh. “But stay wi’ me. Ye’re not supposed to be inside, gargoyle.”
Gabby let her eyes rest as she was taken through the roof door and jostled down a stairwell, then down a long corridor. Her shoulder felt worse than before, the pain starting to spread. Her neck and shoulder blades ached, and the throbbing had even extended to her hand.
Demon poison, she realized as her back hit a cold table. Dimitrie’s arms slid from underneath her.
“Gabriella, open yer eyes.” The man’s voice was so close that she complied with a start. He was directly above her, palms planted on the table on either side of her head. He smiled down at her, his ice-blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Nolan’s coming, lass,” he whispered. His Scottish burr nudged some awareness deep inside her. The eyes. Not Nolan’s, but somehow the same.
“Who are you?” she asked. Her body shook with fatigue and what felt like a creeping fever.
“Rory, laoch,” he answered, again with that familiar grin.
Rory what?
The door sailed open and plowed into a wall. “What happened?”
Where Rory’s voice had nudged, Nolan’s kicked. He thundered into the room, a wrathful storm darkening his eyes as they inspected her shoulder.
“You.” Nolan thrust a finger toward Dimitrie, who stood at the foot of the table without a stitch of clothing on. Thankfully, everything from the waist down was hidden from Gabby’s view.
“What was it?” Nolan demanded.
“An appendius.” Dimitrie’s voice cracked on the last syllable.
“Well, what have you been waiting for? You’re the new Dispossessed at the abbey, aren’t you? Get on with it. Slice open your hand or your arm—your jugular, for all I care. Just give your blood!”
“I wouldn’t have brought her to you if I could heal her myself,” Dimitrie said through clenched teeth. He turned, showing his pale back. Gabby tried to sit up when she saw the paper-thin horizontal lines, but she couldn’t do more than lift her head.
Angel’s burns. Ingrid had told her about them. Dimitrie’s burns started at the nape of his neck and descended to the small of his back. Most were white and healed, but some at his lower back were pink and new. He’d failed his human charges so many times Gabby couldn’t begin to count the scars before she fell back against the table.
He would be punished for her injury tonight, too. So would Luc. Gabby felt sick with guilt, on top of everything else.
“You know what these do to a gargoyle’s blood,” Dimitrie said, his head drooping low in shame.
Nolan raked his hand through his hair. “Your blood’s useless. Why didn’t you take her back to Luc at the abbey?”
Gabby didn’t understand what was happening, but she did know that she’d never heard Nolan so furious.
“She was in a park one street away from here,” Dimitrie answered. “And if Luc wasn’t at the abbey when I arrived with her …”
Dimitrie had only been thinking about healing her, and fast. Even Gabby could see that.
“For Christ’s sake! Where is Luc?” Nolan hissed. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. “Rory, guard the door. My da can’t know she’s here. Or him,” he said with a nod toward the naked boy.
Rory nodded and slipped out of the crisp, sterile room. It was a medical room, she noticed with detached wonder. H?tel Bastian had a medical wing? There were two walls of glassed-in cabinets holding bottles and linens and strange-looking contraptions. Gabby lay on one of many metal tables—gurneys, she realized. A moment later, after Nolan rummaged around in one of those glass cabinets, he came back to her side.
“Gabby,” Nolan whispered. He brushed her hair from her sweaty forehead. “Lass, you’ve demon poison in you. I can’t wait any longer for Luc to find you. It’s got to be mercurite, or the poison will spread too far and deep.”