Tracy brushed her fingers over the smooth stone of the gargoyle statue after she entered the club. “Ready for another wild night?”

How ridiculous she sounded speaking to a statue. If anyone saw her, they’d think she was stone-cold crazy.

She ran her hands down over her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. As if any would dare to appear. The dress was skin-tight, one of her sexy work outfits. She had to wear something fitting for the underground club.

“I’m stuck with the late shift tonight,” she added. “At least I’ll have you here later to keep me company.”

Saturday nights were the busiest at Vamps, where she bartended. While she prepped for a thirsty crowd, she spoke to the gargoyle. Why she gravitated to this one, although there were others perched in the club, she had no clue. Something about it compelled her, drawing her in like they had some sort of connection.

Which was insane.

She should probably stop talking to it, but, if it wasn’t hurting anyone? She shrugged.

“It was kind of a tough morning,” she said. “My mom told me about a call from one of Andrew’s teachers. He’s still struggling at school. It sucks. I wish there was something I could do to help him.” She’d mentioned her concerns about her younger brother several times.

“Anyway, I was kind of anxious when I went to yoga,” she continued. “Luckily, this is my day to go. After getting up early to finish a paper and working the past two nights here, I was already wound up. Hearing about Andrew cranked it up a notch. And, you know what can happen when I can’t manage my anxiety.” She shivered as a nervous laugh escaped her. “An ugly scene.”

The sound of an opening door indicated someone was entering, probably staff. “Talk to you later,” she whispered.

During the first couple hours of her shift, the club was quiet. Only a few regulars entered soon after it opened, and nursed their drinks at the bar. She chatted them up, but as the crowd grew, so did the number of drink requests. Soon, her nightly workout kicked in as she darted up and down the bar taking orders and making drinks for the thirsty crew, especially those who had worked up a sweat on the dance floor. The DJ kept them moving with an eclectic mix of music, including new wave, goth rock, and metal remixes that kept people moving.

A guy motioned her over to where he sat at the bar.

“Love your hair,” he shouted over the music, projecting spittle. Then he leaned across the bar and touched a strand. The scent of beer wafting from his breath was pronounced even though she was surrounded by alcohol.

She stepped back and gave him a pointed look. Her pink hair was often a topic of conversation, but it was not an invitation to be touched. “You can love it just as well from where you’re sitting.”

“I love a hot girl with some attitude.” He laughed. “They’re usually feisty in bed, too.” With a bold glance that lingered on her cleavage, he left no doubt of what he was envisioning. “I’d like to find out.”

She arched a brow. “Not going to happen.”

When she walked away from him to tend to other customers, he left the bar. Good. She typically could evade drunken guys propositioning her, but there had been a few occasions where the bouncers had to intervene.

Shit. Was there a guy out there who wasn’t a total leech or an abusive control-freak like her ex? After Brian, she was all set with relationships. But, she was only in her early twenties, and too young to declare herself celibate. Sure, she’d had a few hookups after they’d broken up, but it didn’t do much for her.

It had been a while, though, and she was feeling the itch. Was there a balance between an impersonal one night stand and a relationship that sucked your soul like some damn incubus? Maybe a lover. A generous, caring one. An added bonus would be someone she could enjoy spending time with, rather than trying to pacify from some perceived injustice.

Perhaps she should add these requests to her online dating profile. Not that it was active anymore. She’d given up after a half-dozen lackluster attempts there. What appeared to be a good match on paper, never panned out when she met them in person. Algorithms and checkboxes were one thing, but a spark with someone was something else.

Did anyone understand that mysterious connection that made people click? It was almost like—magic.

The crowd continued to dwindle beyond last call. After the DJ announced the last song as Valerie Broussard’s A Little Wicked, and then turned the lights off, they started to head out. Plastic cups were scattered in every dark corner and under the other perched gargoyles. The scent of sweat and spilled beer permeated the club. But, the music had stopped, and the club was emptying out.

After the other two bartenders helped clean up, cashed out, and left, she stayed to make sure they were all set for the next shift, as it was her turn. The bar backs took out the trash and the bottles for recycling, and she was alone once again.

Tracy walked over to the crouched gargoyle at the end of the bar and placed her hand on the smooth area between its two horns. “Damn, that was a busy night,” she said. “But, I took in some great tips. One of the downsides of college is those damn tuition bills”

She ran her down the back of its head and over its hunched back where its two wings connected. She took a deep breath to decompress and rested her hand on the gargoyle’s shoulder. Tomorrow morning, she’d sleep in, and not talk to a soul until well after noon. She’d spend much of the day studying.

“Trace.”

Was it one of the guys out back?

No, they knew better than to call her Trace.

“It’s Tracy,” she said, turning to face the intruder.

And stared into the face of her ex. His black hair was mussed up and looked like it could use a wash. Actually, so could the rest of him. His jeans were stained.

“You look hot. I love you in this dress.” He reached for her with one of his tattooed arms.

She recoiled. No way would she let him touch her. “What are you doing here, Brian?” The muscles in her body tensed as she gauged the distance between her and the pepper spray behind the bar.

She felt a tiny movement under her hand.

No, she had to be losing her mind. As if stone could move.

She kept her hand on the stone like a security blanket, almost gripping it now that Brian had appeared.

“I came to see what you were doing tonight. Thought maybe we could hang out?” The way he slurred the words indicated he’d already had one too many, a bad sign.

“Definitely not. The restraining order should have made that clear.”

“Babe, I was in a rough place and I took it out on you. Let’s put the past behind us and try again.”

The cold stone felt warmer beneath her hand. How strange. Was she so heated from the tension that her palm could warm cool stone?

“No, Brian. I’ve given you too many chances and each time it ended worse than the time before.”

“Babe.” He approached her. “I would never hurt you again.”

“Don’t come any closer.” She moved away from the gargoyle to get to her purse behind the bar.

“Trace, you’re so dramatic.” He moved behind the bar.

Tracy was distracted by the gargoyle statue behind him. It was changing color, from gray stone to what appeared to be—flesh.

“Come on, we were good together. Don’t you miss the sex?”

The stone wings of the gargoyle statue unfurled into enormous sleek, gray ones. The gargoyle reshaped itself, rising from a crouched position to stand on two legs to a full height well over six feet.

And the horns receded into the head, as golden hair sprouted to take their place, growing well below impressively broad shoulders. Within a few seconds, the once grotesque stone creature she’d found lovable, had transformed into a breathtaking male with flawless bronze skin, long, blond hair and the magnificent physique of a Viking warrior—one who stood there stark naked.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, eyes widening.

“I know, babe,” Brian said. “The sex was awesome.”

Ignoring Brian, she fumbled for her purse to search for the damn spray. Who the hell should she even direct it at now, with two threats facing her?

Shit, her fingers tingled, a bad sign. If she didn’t get herself in check, a panic attack could follow—and at the worst possible time.

Brian grabbed her wrists and tried to kiss her before she found it. Adrenaline powered through her with the force of a tsunami.

“Get off me!” She attempted to knee him in his testicles, but he deflected the blow by turning his body to the side.

Enormous wings surrounded Brian and a second later he was lifted off the ground.

Brian exclaimed, “What the―” but was cut off as he was thrown over the bar onto the empty dance floor.

He scrambled to his feet on unsteady legs. The gargoyle stepped over to him in a few massive strides. It raised one of his sinewy legs and kicked Brian in the gut. Brian groaned and clutched his stomach. The gargoyle lifted a foot over Brian’s head.

Tracy screamed while Brian shielded his face with his forearm to brace against the gargoyle stomping on his head.

She tried a gentler tone. “Please don’t. You’ll kill him.”

The gargoyle paused and put his foot down, but then bent to pinch Brian’s neck, which made him pass out.

The sweetness in her voice departed as she exclaimed, “What in fuck’s name is going on?”

The gargoyle turned to face her, anger flashing from brilliant green eyes. The look softened with warmth as he gazed at her.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Tracy.”

He spoke in a husky French accent that set her pulse afire, despite her natural reaction to retreat.

“How the hell do you know my name?” She backed away.

Was she drugged? Hallucinating? She only drank water while she worked and kept her bottle behind the bar. She’d heard too many horror stories of what could happen if you left your drink unattended for a moment. Had someone managed to slip a tasteless drug into her water?

“It’s me, Tracy. The statue. The gargoyle.”

“I must be drugged.” She put her hands on her temples and closed her eyes in an attempt to clear her mind. When she reopened them, her eyes traveled from his chest down to discover he was well-endowed.

She imagined a naked man with an impressive package? She had to be drugged. Drugged and horny.

“I know it sounds crazy,” he said. “But I’m alive. Flesh and blood, just like you.” Then he added, “For now.”

Tracy assessed her brain functions. She didn’t feel like she was under the influence of something. Her senses weren’t clouded in some haze and she wasn’t hallucinating things morphing and reshaping themselves. The only indication something was off was that she’d just witnessed a gargoyle statue transform into a god of a man who threw her ex across the bar. If he was actually there and not some illusion, it meant she was alone with a muscular, naked stranger. She fumbled in her purse and raised her pepper spray.

“Stay away from me!”

“What is that?” He tilted his head.

“You’ll find out the hard way if you come any closer.”

“A weapon.” The curiosity in his expression turned to amusement. He raised his hand. “I’m clearly unarmed. I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Danton.”

“How did you come out of the stone?” She kept the pepper spray directed at his face.

“I didn’t. I am the stone. I’m a gargoyle.”

She glanced to where the gargoyle statue had stood. It was still there the way it always had been.

“Bull-fucking shit, pretty boy.” She nodded to the statue. “Then what the hell is that?”

“My shell.”

“Your what?”

“Listen to me, please.” He held out his hands palm up. “I am a gargoyle shifter—man and stone in one. My role is to protect humans, like you. Especially you.”

Especially her? What was his problem?

“Ha ha ha!” Tracy spat. “I’ve seen some crazy-ass shit working here. And some real out-there characters. Despite all the insane things I’ve seen, I have never seen a human come from stone. You’d have to be on some serious drugs to see that.”

“You are not drugged.” He raised his hand palm-forward. “Can we go somewhere and I’ll explain?”

Her curiosity was piqued. Something about the statue had compelled her to talk to it, reveal her innermost secrets. The man standing before her had to be the most captivating one she’d ever laid her eyes on. While she sought to understand what he was exactly, sordid images distracted her.

His head jerked up, and he glanced to the back entrance. “Someone’s coming.”

She pushed the sensual images out of her mind. “You’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “If they see a naked guy in here, they’ll…I don’t know…attack you or call the cops. Either way, it isn’t good.” Having to explain how a stone gargoyle statue transformed into a human and knocked out her ex wouldn’t go down well. They’d lock her up thinking she was bat-shit crazy. “For either of us,” she added.

She threw her pepper spray in her purse and tossed her car keys to him. “Go out the front door and wait in my car—the blue Mini Cooper.”

Danton caught the keys and said, “Thank you.”

His gray wings were clearly too wide to fit through the doorway. Tracy watched in astonishment as the impressive wings retracted into his back, revealing muscular shoulder blades. She blinked twice. That couldn’t have just happened.

Her gaze traveled to his buttocks and lingered there. She snapped her drooling mouth shut. “Wait. Throw this on.” She fumbled through the bar towels stashed beneath the bar to reach the larger ones. She threw him the biggest one she could find.

He grinned and wrapped the white towel around himself. Then he strode out the door.

Tracy stared at the door for a good ten seconds after he left. What the hell was she doing? She gave him her car keys? Maybe she was crazy after all. The gargoyle statue was where it had always been. She walked over to touch the stone, which was cool once again. Had she imagined the entire thing? It would make more sense than what she’d witnessed.

The guys chattered as they returned from bringing out the trash and recycling bags. They must have had a cigarette, too, as it had taken them longer than necessary. Flipping a strand of her pink hair out of her eyes and closing her gaping mouth, she put on a neutral expression.

“Did you scream?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah. Thanks for rushing to my aid.” She planted her hands on her hips, but resisted rolling her eyes.

“Hey, we were in the middle of hauling boxes. Thought you just saw a cockroach or something.”

“Pretty much.” She nodded to Brian’s unconscious body.

“What the hell?” Ty exclaimed.

“He’s my ex. Not a good guy. He came in here all drunk and tried to kiss me before he passed out.”

“Fuck. What the hell are we going to do with him?” Jimmy asked. “Call the cops?”

Tracy deliberated briefly. Brian shouldn’t have come tonight, but maybe getting his ass kicked taught him a lesson. If she called the cops, he’d be arrested for violating a restraining order. But, she’d have a lot of explaining to do. Picturing the blond statue come to life, that had almost crushed Brian, she wasn’t sure how she could manage that without getting herself recommended for a psychiatric evaluation.

“Nah. I’ll call his roommate to come get him.” After grabbing her phone, she found the number and called. She repeated what she’d say in her head—short and to the point.

When he answered, she blurted, “Listen, Brian came in here tonight all drunk and saying crazy stuff. Now he’s passed out at Vamps. Can you come get him?”

After his roommate agreed, she restocked glasses on the shelves and tried to make sense of what had just happened. The only rational explanation was that somehow she’d hallucinated the entire scene of stone turning into flesh.

But, her coworkers had come in and saw Brian unconscious on the floor. So, somehow he’d ended up there. What she’d witnessed might be real after all.

When she was finished with her shift, she walked out of Vamps into the still-warm July night. A mouthwatering, shirtless man sat in her Mini Cooper, looking quite real. He barely fit in the passenger seat. His head almost touched the ceiling and his chest extended beyond the width of the seat.

Splendid and real.

Her heart raced. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she rubbed them along the red lacing on the sides of her dress. After glancing around the parking lot to make sure nobody else was around, she forced herself to walk at a steady pace and then climbed into the driver’s seat.

Tracy stared at Danton. “I don’t get it. How are you here? But, the statue is still in the club.”

“To keep humans from suspecting anything with our absence, we can leave a shell behind.”

Damn, his voice was as sensual as the rest of him—a smooth baritone with a hint of a French accent.

“How?” She drove away from the club, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure none of her coworkers saw her leaving with a bare-chested blond god.

Danton shrugged. “I just—will it.”

What the hell? How was that possible? Nobody she knew could will anything like that.

“Did I make you?” she asked him.

He gave her a quizzical look.

“I mean, like I subconsciously wished for you to come into my life or something?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “No, I’ve been alive since before you were born.”

She shook her head. What was she thinking—that she might have conjured him into being like she was a witch versed with magic or something?

She inhaled and attempted to clear her head of ridiculous thoughts. His scent was unique, yet definitely male and alluring. Goodness, she shouldn’t smell him. It made her heady with need. Everything about him was designed to lure women in. She could picture him on the stage at Vamps. He didn’t even have to play an instrument or sing, and the women would go nuts trying to reach him.

Focus. Focus. Yes, that was a good idea. She stared at the road ahead, trying to avoid glancing at his muscular quads peeking out from under the towel.

“Where should I take you?” she asked.

“I was hoping we could go someplace quiet and—talk.”

“Talk?” She peered at him.

“We always talk.” His sensuous lips curved into a charismatic smile. “Well, you talk and I listen. I enjoy doing so.”

Countless memories of what she’d confided in him darted across her mind. Not just stupid crap about the bar, but personal things—extremely personal details about her life that she hadn’t shared with anyone.

Not only had she revealed her worries about Andrew, but she’d told him about her problems with Brian. They’d started out small, but had escalated to hellish encounters before she’d ended it. She’d admitted her problems with anxiety and her hopes for the future.

Oh shit.

He knew so much about her. Too much.

Her cheeks burned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He eyed her with a sincere expression. “I would never hurt you, Tracy. It goes against my entire being.”

“No, it’s not that.” Although perhaps she should be nervous about being alone with a strange man—or whatever he was—she didn’t feel threatened by him. “What I told you is private.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “Anything you revealed is between you and me. I won’t tell a soul.”

“You know so much about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“Does it unsettle you?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes. That’s exactly it. I feel completely unsettled. Disarmed. A bit off-balance, maybe.”

“Would it help if I answer some of your questions?”

She nodded. “Immensely.”

“Go ahead.”

She searched her racing mind. So many questions tumbled through. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Why don’t I start with one?” Danton leaned back in the passenger seat. “Do you want to know why I showed my true self to you?”

Her initial response was to reply with a flippant remark about how he came to her rescue, but when she stole a peek at his handsome profile, it distracted her. How did someone so beautiful come from a form that many found grotesque? She scanned from his torso down to the white towel. What a fine physique, as perfect as if it were carved by a master sculptor with the finest tools.

“Yes,” she said. She had to know more and wanted to hear everything he would tell her. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s go to my place.”

She should run in terror after what she’d seen him do, right? But, damn, a part of her wanted to move closer and touch him.

Danton flashed a dazzling smile, which made her tingle all over.

One question made it through the confusion in her mind—what the hell was she doing?