When midnight fell, Roman met with three gargoyle shifters he’d pulled off watch for a ceremony for the fallen. He couldn’t risk having all the Stone Sentries in attendance—not so soon after the demon attack. Still, Antonio and Milo deserved a solemn goodbye, albeit a short one.

He and three of his sentries—Diego, Manny, and Erik—gathered around their fallen comrades on the rooftop of their compound. The tower view in the Seaport District gave them a vantage point of the city.

Roman ran his fingers through the air to ensure the gargoyle magic was present, preventing the sentries from being observed by the prying eyes of human technology. Gargoyles could cloak themselves to be invisible. Only rare humans would be able to discern them in the night sky.

Or a special woman, like Larissa.

He tore his gaze from the young fallen gargoyles to glance at the waning moon. It loomed under wisps of clouds, as though covered by a shroud—not red and ominous like it had been during the Supermoon two nights prior. A night when he had sensed impending danger while the rest of the city had chalked it up to a night filled with passion. Unfortunately, he had been right–yet, in a way, so had they. He’d met Larissa. But, many lives had been lost that night, including these two young shifters.

Tension had kept his muscles taut since then, as hard as if he was in stone form. Perhaps, it was the battle leaving a lingering sense of imminent danger. Hadn’t it been like that at other times? After being involved in an altercation, it took time to turn off the heightened awareness. With the loss of two team members, they had fewer sentries to guard the city against threats, which might have exacerbated his unease. Whatever the sensation was or however it had been brought on, he wouldn’t ignore it.

The council in Paris had informed him that they would send two sentries to replace the two who had perished—a numbers game that didn’t account for the loss of life. He would ensure that the fallen had a proper sendoff.

He addressed the sentries at the ceremony. “Although Antonio and Milo deserve all in attendance to honor our sacrifice, our duty commands that we keep watch over the city.”

Roman stepped closer to the two shifters laid out on a pyre. Four torches stood at each corner, casting flickering shadows across the still gargoyles. The play of light projected a strange illusion of animation on them, and Roman blinked to make sure they hadn’t moved.

Wishful thinking, perhaps. Hoping they weren’t truly gone.

But, their deaths were final, inflicted by a demon’s dark hands.

Roman bowed his head before he addressed them. From a young age, he’d heard the traditional ceremonial farewell for other sentries who had died in battle but had never been the one to deliver the solemn words. His role as commander included leading those who served under him, and ultimately, feeling responsible for their fate.

“You have done your duties well. You have served as valiant Stone Sentries and sacrificed your life for the protection of others. You have died noble deaths of warriors. Your watch is over. We will continue your duty. And you will never be forgotten.”

The other shifters placed their hands over their hearts and echoed the sentiment honoring their fallen comrades.

Diego took hold of one of the torches and leaned down toward the pyre. He lit the kindling beneath the bodies. Antonio and Milo were positioned so they faced North, while the gargoyles in attendance stood in position to represent North, South, East, and West.

The standing gargoyles kept their hands on their heart and their heads bowed. While the bodies burned, wisps of white smoke unfurled toward the stars. An ethereal white glow surrounded Antonio and Milo. As the fire was enhanced with gargoyle magic, the cremation only took minutes. What remained was fine white dust. Neither ashes nor gray stone like that of their statue form. Their remains had turned marble-like with a luminescent quality.

Roman kneeled and gathered a handful of the fine dust. The other gargoyles followed suit. They each walked from their positions to the edge of the rooftop. Each of the Stone Sentries had taken a handful in their left hand.

“Farewell,” Roman said. “May your winged spirits soar into the next world.”

The sentries saluted with their right hands over their chests. They scattered the marble dust into the night, sending the fallen on an eternal flight. Roman watched the dust briefly obscure the waning moon before falling like angel dust among the stars. A breeze swept in on the otherwise calm night and claimed the white stone dust in a timeless dance, like snowflakes drifting across the sky.

The sentries watched until the specks could no longer be seen. Antonio and Milo had become one with the night sky on their eternal flight. Roman took in a deep, mournful breath through tight lungs before dismissing the sentries to their assigned locations.

As he’d promised, they’d continue their watch and return to duty.

He checked in with Arto, his second-in-command. Roman had given his Stone Sentries assignments, and many observed from inconspicuous positions while in stone. Arto had proven himself as loyal and capable the night the demons had attacked. Roman could always rely on his deputy and good friend.

Arto, anything to report? Roman asked through telepathic gargoyle communication.

No, Commander.

Where are you?

I’m still in the Longwood Medical Area, near where Larissa’s friend is recovering.

At the mention of Larissa, Roman’s new mate, a pang twisted inside him. He’d only met her two nights ago, just before the demon attack. She was a police officer, yet he hadn’t known that. He’d tracked her as he had sensed dark magic and had followed her to investigate. She wasn’t the source of dark magic, but he’d caught her scent—an herbal one that was indicative of a witch. Roman had unfortunately blurted that out, and she hadn’t responded well. She hadn’t known, and it would take time to accept a side of her that had a new label.

The growing ache from being apart from his mate was unfamiliar. It tugged at him like an echo of a severed limb. Even without the physical presence, it left a strange longing that gnawed inside, a constant reminder of the loss.

He’d told her he would try to visit her that night if all was calm. He forced himself to push away the yearning for her. Duty required it. Although the gargoyles believed they’d destroyed all the demons or sent them back through the portal to their hellish realm, he wouldn’t disregard any possibilities when it came to immortal beings and dark magic.

Roman wasn’t leaving anything to chance in protecting the city entrusted to his watch–his first assignment as a commander of a region.

He couldn’t fail them.

He wouldn’t fail them.

Roman added Franco and Vidal to the conversation. He’d assigned them to watch the portal where the demons had slipped through. Although Roman had sealed it with gargoyle magic, he wouldn’t leave it unattended.

Any activity near the portal?

Nothing out of the ordinary, Franco replied. Many parts of the Common are still taped off since it’s a crime scene. Investigators have been here day and night. Pedestrians approach, trying to get a closer look, but that’s all.

The humans would investigate for months. But what would it accomplish? They couldn’t change anything nor prevent what had happened from happening again. Humans were powerless against demons. They needed the gargoyles for protection.

Roman glanced at the moon as he took in the climate through his supernatural senses. The unsettling red hue from the night of the attack was gone. His sentries reported all was quiet. He had to see Larissa and ensure she was safe.

He cloaked himself and shifted to gargoyle form before leaping off the roof of the compound and spreading his wings wide. Anticipation heightened his awareness and his pulse soared. The city’s lights danced beneath him. The sultry summer heat caressed his wings. The hum of the night whispered soon.

Was this what it was like when a gargoyle discovered his mate? He craved her presence. Their separation while they each performed their duties left him longing for her.

The lights of the city’s buildings gave way to darker streets of residential areas. When he reached Larissa’s neighborhood, he surveilled the area for witnesses. After landing in a nearby park with several trees that offered him cover, he shifted to human form.

He practically ran to the three-family house where she lived. It was after midnight, and the lights were off in her apartment. She had to be sleeping. Good; she needed the rest. He hated to wake her, but how else would he get in?

After a minute, there was still no answer.

He tried again.

Another minute or two ticked by with no signs of movement. He reached for his phone in his back pocket.

Shit, it wasn’t there. He’d left it at the compound. As a gargoyle, he rarely had the need for a cell phone. Why bother when he could communicate telepathically?

But, Larissa wasn’t a gargoyle. He’d have to learn to adjust to the nuances in a relationship with someone who was a different species.

He tried the bell again a couple more times. Nothing.

Damn it, he wasn’t going to leave without seeing her. He glanced to make sure nobody was looking out their window and slipped behind a bush on her property. After shifting back to gargoyle form, he flew to the back of the house and up to her bedroom window on the third floor. The shade was up, which was odd, yet, he wasn’t complaining. With his vision, he was able to see clearly into her bedroom.

The bed was made. But, she wasn’t in it.

Worry wormed through his skull. His heart pounded, hard and harsh against his ribs. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Where was she?

More importantly—was she safe?