“The gargoyle of my dream, the Enphigmalé, caused me more disquiet than the poor woman begging me to help her. I couldn’t shake the eerie image of that voice coming from the fanged mouth of the beast, so confident I would obey its commands.Tyler’s wounds had closed completely during the night. At least I had one thing to be thankful for. Dimitri called to check on Tyler, which in my opinion was a nice gesture, considering that he was married to Anya, and I couldn’t imagine her compassion cup ove...rflowed for either of us. Maybe I wasn’t giving her enough credit. Maybe I was giving her too much.Though he’d healed superficially, Tyler was still pretty wiped out. Traces of iron had spread through his system, nothing that couldn’t be cured with a little R&R, according to him. So I left him to sleep the day away, unofficially borrowing his motorcycle—hey, he wasn’t going anywhere—and I doubted he’d even realize it was gone. I left my coat at Tyler’s because I didn’t need the long tails tangling in the wheels of the sleek Buell street bike, and sped off through town toward the freeway.I ducked my head, listening to the wind as it whooshed over the motorcycle helmet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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