Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Hello, Evan, lovely to meet you,” Jessie said, no real formality. “You can call me Jessie. Thank you for playing host, and I apologize about our lack of attire. We were treated to a basajaunak cook-out last night and slept in the woods. We didn’t have the facilities to look more presentable.”
“Not at all.” Evan waved that away. “You’re busy these days. Your right-hand woman, Patty, has no end of stories about what you’ve been up to.”
In the gargoyle line, Ulric’s wings shivered. John would have to start studying gargoyles to decipher what their various movements meant.
Evan turned to the side and held out his hand to the gargoyle in the rumpled shirt. “You know Gerard, of course.”
Gerard held up his hand in greeting. “Hey! Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Gerard. It’s great to see you again!” Jessie leaned forward a bit to convey her pleasure. “Your visit saved us from having to be late.”
Gerard put out his hands. His demeanor was utterly blasé, like life was a surfboard and he was just waiting for a wave. “I do what I can.”
Evan clasped his hands in front of him, not confident in his position right now. “I have refreshments ready while we get your people situated and then we’ll let you get settled and freshened up. How would that be?”
“Sounds perfect, thanks.” Jessie looked back at the gargoyle they called Mr. Tom. They never seemed to drop the mister from his name. “Can you get everyone sorted out?”
“Of course, miss. Shall I keep the miserable old woman confined to her room, as is proper, or will she be allowed to wander around the town and start trouble as usual?”
John went still, expecting Jessie or Austin to lash out at such flagrant disregard for propriety at a meeting. This gargoyle was embarrassing himself, his position, and whomever he was calling names.
“And ye think ye’d be able to stop me, like?” the puca said, ending John’s confusion. Apparently she was the “miserable old woman” Mr. Tom was referring to. “Sure, these are gargoyles. They like a little color in their lives. Or don’t ye remember because it’s been so long since one of them identified ye as their kind?”
Tingles of warning worked up John’s spine. He wanted to rush forward and put a hand on the two, stopping them from continuing. He didn’t have to be the one to rip them to pieces to prove a point, but he still didn’t want to witness it. He’d walked away from all that. He didn’t want the memories of what Austin or Jessie would surely now be forced to do.
But even as he contemplated backing up, Aurora caught his eye. She subtly shook her head no, apparently warning him not to flee. Would that make things worse?
“I beg your pardon,” Mr. Tom started, his wings shaking madly. “I’ll have you know—“
“Stop.” Jessie held up her hand, her eyes closed in a pained expression. Austin waited beside her patiently. “Please stop. Mr. Tom, Niamh knows better than to create trouble when she is a guest in another territory, right, Niamh?”
“Of course I do, what’re ye on about?” she responded pompously, and there was more than a little bullshit to those words.
Jessie seemed untroubled by the woman’s continued disrespect for her position. “Great. Mr. Tom, help everyone get settled, if you wouldn’t mind. We’ll be along later. Please iron my nice clothes for this evening if you can.”
“Yes, miss, though you’ve surely forgotten the sort of sport the Irishwoman makes of gargoyles.” Mr. Tom’s wings fluttered again.
Jessie glanced over John’s head at the basajaunak. “Phil, keep things in line, would you?”
“No, problem,” he replied. “I’m very good at squishing fights.”
Jessie held up a finger, and then swung it to Niamh. “No fights. If I hear of a fight, I will blame you two whether it is your fault or not—“
“It’ll be their fault,” Mr. Tom quipped.
“—and you will be flown home. Is that clear? We are guests. Do not rile them up just to see if you can. You deserved that beer glass to the back of the head in Drex’s territory, Niamh. A gargoyle will probably do worse, and I will not heal you here, either.”
“That glass was worth it,” Niamh murmured. “I won a lot of money on that bet. I knew I could get that happy fecker to crack.”
“Maybe you should use it to pay for charm school,” Mr. Tom groused.
Jessie sighed and turned back to the cairn leaders with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Gerard, you remember this crew.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “What’s this about a beer glass to the back of the head? That sounds like a fun outing. I need that story.”
Evan gave her a comforting smile. “If your team is able to rile up my gargoyles, the gargoyles will get what they deserve.”