“You’re the one Sofia tripped over,” Mitch said. “Thanks for paying for the broken glasses.”
Griffin glanced down at her and arched his brows but did not correct the owner. She needed to remember to thank him for that.
“So what’s going on?” Mitch asked.
“I’m sorry for calling off,” Sofia said and then cleared her throat. “We have a situation. I-I’m not sure it’s safe to be at my house right now.”
She could tell Mitch wanted to ask, but instead, he nodded and said, “You want to hang out down here or head upstairs?”
“What’s upstairs?” Griffin asked, looking up at the ceiling.
“An apartment. Bebé and I lived there when we first opened the place. We use it as rental income now, but it’s currently empty. You’re welcome to it for as long as you need it.”
At Griffin’s insistence, Sofia had packed a bag for both herself and Penelope in case they were not able to return to her house for a few days. Staying in Mitch’s apartment was as close to the perfect alternative as they were going to get. Darius wouldn’t think to look for her there, and they were only a few blocks from the City of the Dead.
The apartment was small, maybe six hundred square feet at the most. The kitchen encompassed one corner; the living room stretched across the front, with a row of windows overlooking the street below. An open doorway gave them a glimpse at the only bed in the entire place.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t be here long enough to have to work out sleeping arrangements.
Griffin placed his hand on the small of her back and gently pushed her forward so that he could step inside. She saw him glance at the bedroom, and then, as if reading her mind, said, “Relax, Sofia. I’m a gargoyle, remember? If we stay here long enough that it will be an issue, I’m perfectly capable of shifting into my stone form for the night, so you can sleep in peace.” And then he arched his brows. “Although I much prefer sleeping while in human form—and in a bed at that.”
Yeah, right, fat chance that’d happen. The sleeping comfortably bit, she meant.
For one thing, she had to figure out why Darius had popped back into her life. And then she had to deal with the fact that her adopted daughter would soon be training to become a lethal weapon for all of witchkind.
And then there was the fact that, since he’d shown up last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it had been like to share a bed with Griffin.
If she were able to sleep at all, it certainly wouldn’t be peaceful.
Chapter Seven
Sofia found a Disney movie on television, and she and Penelope settled in to watch, snuggled together on the couch. It was such a heartwarming scene that Griffin stood in the middle of the room staring at them until Sofia snapped her fingers and arched her brow.
“Are you going to join us?”
He wanted to. He was surprised by his own craving for such a comfortable, normal afternoon activity. But first of all, he and Sofia were not a couple and he’d promised not to touch her, and second, once they went to the City of the Dead and spoke to Oliver, Griffin would be taken off this assignment and it was entirely possible that their paths would never cross again.
Which sucked, but hey, that was reality. Most things did.
He pointed at the door. “Will you be okay up here if I go downstairs and have a drink?”
She ruffled Penelope’s red hair. “Yep. We have Jasmine and Aladdin to keep us company.”
He needed to leave before he gave in to the temptation to drop onto the couch on her other side. He imagined propping his feet on the coffee table, his arm stretched across the back of the sofa while she rested her head on his chest, maybe trailing a finger across his pec. Or along his thigh. Or…
“Okay, I’ll be back in a little while.”
He bolted, missed the first step, and nearly tumbled the rest of the way down.
“Whoa, careful there.” A woman standing at the bottom of the stairs spread her arms like she was prepared to catch him. She had dark skin and curly hair and was tall and thin, and she was a dragon.
“Thank you. I’m good now,” Griffin said by way of greeting.
She canted her head. “You’re a gargoyle.” She glanced at the stairs. “Are you renting Mitch’s apartment?”
“Um, just staying here for a short while. Until I get everything sorted out.” Why was he telling this woman even that much? She would have no idea what “everything” was, and she probably didn’t care. She was just making polite conversation, and now Griffin had pulled her into his convoluted life far more than either of them probably wanted.
She nodded and thrust out her arm and then pulled it back again. “Sorry, gargoyles don’t shake. I keep forgetting.”
“You’re familiar with gargoyles?”
She pointed at a man who was standing at the bar. “That’s my mate, Ketu. He’s friends with Argyle, from the local gargoyle brethren.”
Griffin hadn’t met Argyle yet, but Oliver spoke highly of him.
“I’m Antoinette, by the way. I’m the reeve of the Rojo dragon colony.”
“Griffin.” He nodded once. How should he explain who he was? “I’m new in town. Recently joined Argyle’s—well, Oliver’s—brethren, actually.”
“Ah. Welcome. Where are you from? Somewhere north, I’m guessing from the accent.”
He chuckled. “Canada. So yes, pretty far north.”
“You probably have snow on the ground already back home. My son is obsessed with snow. He’s been bugging me to take him to Detroit so he can experience it firsthand. In truth, the reeve of the Detroit colony has a daughter my son’s age, and I think Henri has a
