Gaston had likely only been telling Luc what he’d wanted to hear, to get him motivated to move against Vincent. But it had lit something within him, a hope that refused to burn out.
“Lennier changed everything for the Dispossessed hundreds of years ago. We went from being hunted by the Alliance to being their ally. I have the chance now to change things between us and the rest of the humans.” He raked his fingers through her loose golden tresses. “I can’t believe I’m the only one who’s ever felt like this. There have to be others … others who want the same things I do.”
Ingrid closed her eyes and tilted her head into his hand. “But the Angelic Order—”
“Punished me for having an affinity—a preference for one human over another. If you were to be my only human …” He let his thought trail off. He knew it was selfish, asking her to be his and to live with him alone, without another human under his roof at H?tel du Maurier. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last. But he also couldn’t give her up to reality just yet.
“My body is cursed. I can’t be with you, but I can love you. I can love you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Luc kissed her temple and buried his nose in her hair. He breathed her in, smelling salt and faint rosewater, sweat and woodsmoke. It wasn’t the sweet spring grass and dark, fertile soil he’d known, and it didn’t matter. It was her. Just her.
“I don’t want what happened to René to happen to you,” she whispered, her breath stirring against his bare skin.
“I can’t promise any—”
The door to Ingrid’s bedroom burst open. Luc heard the scream before his eyes registered Lady Brickton standing within the doorway, her hands slapping over her mouth. With his arms still around Ingrid’s body, Luc quaked into his reptilian scales. Too late. Vander Burke had already pushed past Ingrid’s mother and into the room.
Vander raged across Ingrid’s bedroom, his brutal gaze locked on Luc. Ingrid threw out her arms, as if they could actually block Luc’s gigantic form behind her.
“Stop!”
If Vander got any closer she didn’t know what Luc might do. She didn’t know what Vander might do.
“What in God’s name is going on in here?” Mama demanded.
Vander pulled up just short of slamming into Ingrid, his glare still fixed on Luc. “You know what happens to humans caught up with gargoyles. You know and you don’t care, you selfish bastard.” He took Ingrid’s arm and jerked her aside, his other hand reaching into his coat and closing around the handle of his sword.
“Vander, no!” Ingrid screamed.
Luc swatted down Vander’s sword hand with what looked and sounded like enough force to break bone.
“Luc, stop!” she screamed again. She would have stunned them both had her lectrux blood not been subdued.
The room became smaller as Nolan darted inside. He grabbed Vander’s arm and heaved him back to a safe distance. “Use that brain of yours, Burke. He is elder. You do not challenge him.”
Ingrid slipped back in front of Luc and put her palms flat against his chest.
“You should go,” she whispered.
His phosphorescent green eyes met hers for a moment before something over her shoulder drew his attention. She followed his gaze, but only until she saw her mother in her side vision. Oh God. Mama. And what she’d seen.
“Our former driver is one of them?” Lady Brickton asked, painfully shrill this time. Ingrid winced.
“Mama—”
Ingrid had no idea how to continue. The usual excuses—It wasn’t what it looked like or I can explain—would be pathetic. It was exactly as it had looked, and no, truly, she could not explain. Not without sounding like a complete lunatic.
Ingrid was saved by a voice calling her name from the hallway.
“Griddy?”
No. It couldn’t be.
“Gabby?” Ingrid turned to face the door, resisting the magnetic pull of her mother’s ferocious glare.
And there her sister was, entering the bedroom with her rum-colored hair falling out of combs and pins, a bright, rosy flush upon her cheeks, and no slanted veil to mask her scars.
Gabby’s smile trembled as she skirted their mother, Nolan, and Vander, and rushed into Ingrid’s arms. Her smile fell away completely as she backed out of their brief embrace and looked between Luc’s true form and Mama.
Gabby angled her head so no one could read her lips. Why is he in your room? she mouthed. Ingrid shook her head stiffly.
“Yann is still out there,” Vander boomed. “He and a few Chimeras who haven’t bowed down to the great and mighty elder just yet. You should be out there finding them, Luc, not in here where you don’t belong.”
“I won’t pretend to understand who and what Mr. Burke is referring to. However,” Mama began, her tone now calm, yet no less severe, “I agree with him. You do not belong in my daughter’s room, Mr. Rousseau, and most certainly not in the state in which I found you.”