In Penelope’s case, her powers hadn’t yet manifested since she’d been so young at the time. And in the case of her mother, well, that one was on Griffin. He’d never been particularly good at being a gargoyle. Which was why he was so baffled by Oliver’s insistence that he join the New Orleans brethren.
Did Oliver know about Penelope? He had to. Why else would he have sent Griffin here to protect her? Although he had said Griffin was to protect Sofia, not Penelope, but maybe that was a technicality.
“What’s a Daughter of Light?” little Penelope asked, tilting her head and looking far more serious than a four-year-old should.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll fill you in.”
Apparently, his little trick had worked, even though he hadn’t actually used any magic to lead her to believe he was a good person. At any rate, Penelope led the way down the hall, through the living room, and into the eat-in kitchen, where she slid onto a chair at the table and perched her dragon next to her elbow.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal. With blueberries.”
Okay, he could do that. Hopefully. He opened cabinet doors until he found one that contained a variety of dry goods, including a tube of oatmeal that wasn’t the instant kind you poured hot water over and called it a day. Sighing, he lifted the container and read the instructions.
“So what’s a Daughter of Light?” Sofia asked again.
While Griffin prepared breakfast, he explained. “A Daughter of Light is a witch who is also descended from the gods.”
“I’m a witch?”
Sofia had said that she did not know what the little girl was, which, he supposed, made sense. Depending on how long she’d been a loner, Sofia may not even be aware of the existence of Daughters of Light. Hell, Penelope may be the only one left in this world. Warlocks had been quietly killing them off for decades now.
“You are,” Griffin confirmed. “A very powerful one. More powerful than almost all other witches, in fact.”
“Because I’m also a god.”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
He chuckled but then frowned. This discovery led to all sorts of complications. It also meant that Sofia and Penelope needed more than just him to protect them.
He’d never been responsible for protecting a Daughter of Light before—well, except for that time that he’d rescued Penelope, but in his defense, he hadn’t realized what he was up against back then.
This was different. He’d come to New Orleans intent upon proving himself to the coolest and most powerful gargoyle there was: Oliver. Except this was not what Griffin had anticipated as a first assignment. He’d hoped for rescuing kittens from trees as a lead in to the difficult stuff.
No way was he prepared for something so important as keeping possibly the only existing Daughter of Light safe.
Chapter Four
Several thoughts hit Sofia all at once.
One, she’d definitely slept for more than three hours.
Two, Penelope had not woken her, which was concerning.
Three, there was someone else in the house besides her and Penelope.
Even more concerning.
She sprang out of bed and snagged a robe to cover her camisole and panties. Pulling open the door, she hurried down the hall until she came to a stuttering halt at the entrance to the living room.
Penelope, in her pajamas, her hair an uncombed rat’s nest on her head, sat cross-legged on the floor, with Pinky the purple dragon in her lap, her tongue thrust between her teeth as she focused on the game of Candyland spread out before her.
Griffin sat across from her, watching as she calculated her next move.
What in the world?
Sofia didn’t need to bother asking how Griffin had gotten into her house. She’d witnessed his ability to bypass locks just last night. Still…
“What are you doing here?”
He glanced up, his gaze lingering on her bare legs beneath the short robe, and her dragon, dormant for far too long, lifted her head and took notice.
Great. He isn’t even a dragon.
So? her dragon replied.
Sofia shook her head. Now was not the time to get into a discussion of species with her beast.
Penelope glanced up and waved. “Hi, Mommy.”
Sofia’s heart melted a little every time she heard that moniker. She hadn’t intended for Penelope to call her mommy, but the first time she had, Sofia’s fierce protectiveness of this child had quadrupled, and it had only increased in strength every day since.
Griffin nodded at her daughter. “We were letting you sleep in.”
Sofia frowned. She felt… fantastic, in truth. How much sleep had she gotten?
“It’s ten o’clock,” Griffin supplied, like he could read her mind.
Good gods, she hadn’t slept this late since the day before she’d spent that fateful night with Griffin, four years ago.
“Why? How did you even know? How…?”
He nodded at the window overlooking the backyard. “I stayed watch last night, outside Penelope’s bedroom. When I heard her wake, I came inside and convinced her to let me make her breakfast instead of waking you up to do so.”
“You…” Apparently, a full night’s sleep rendered her incapable of completing a sentence.
“Coffee,” Griffin said, hopping to his feet. “You need some.”
“She drinks a lot of coffee,” Penelope supplied.
That kid. Sometimes she was too honest.
“Come on,” Griffin said, motioning to Sofia to join him in the kitchen. Instead of pouring her a cup of joe, as soon as she was close enough, he grasped her arm and squeezed. Sofia’s dragon started prancing around like a dog about to be handed a bone.
Down, girl.
“We need help,” Griffin
