Cindy Eller 05 How (Not) to Kiss a Gargoyle by Elizabeth A. Reeves

Author:Elizabeth A. Reeves [Reeves, Elizabeth A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: withes and wizards, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal, witches and wizards
Publisher: Elizabeth A Reeves
Published: 2013-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I jerked awake to the sensation of fingers touching my arm and moving up toward my shoulder. I sat up with a gasp, the events of the previous night reeling through my head like a horror movie.

Timothy yanked his hand back as if I had stung him. He looked a little better this morning—his color wasn’t as bad as it had been, and the circles under his eyes had definitely diminished.

I blinked at him, not knowing how to react. I couldn’t just ignore all that had happened—though the room appeared to have been cleaned up and the mirror replaced.

I waited for what felt like an eternity for him to say something—anything at all.

Timothy winced at my expression. “Did I hurt you,” he whispered, looking down at my arm, where he had been inspecting my skin. “L-last night. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shook my head quickly. Even in his rage, Timothy had not raised a single bruise on my skin—which was more than I could say for myself most days. Some part of him must have been aware enough to help him hold back—there was no doubt in my mind that he could have hurt me if he had wanted to.

It meant a great deal to me that he hadn’t.

Not that I was ready to let my guard down. Timothy was obviously going through something—something bad enough that he had gone a little crazy.

“What’s going on?” I hated how small my voice sounded.

Timothy dragged a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. His pirate shirt was open at the collar, displaying a great deal of his chest, though—other than the ornate jerkin—he still wore the rest of his clothes.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered. “It doesn’t excuse what I did—nothing excuses that kind of behavior. I… I thought I was dreaming again, for a moment there, but I wasn’t, was I? That really happened?”

I nodded warily.

Timothy sprang to his feet and began to pace across the room, his face a mask of misery and regret. “God, Cindy. I am so sorry. I know that’s not enough to say. What can I say that would make any difference at all?” He shook his head. “I know there’s nothing I can do to make it up to you.”

I swallowed. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen,” I said slowly. “But, I think we need to go talk to my father and figure this all out.”

Timothy nodded, his eyes still on the floor.

I dragged myself out of the bed, wincing at the stinging sensation that dotted my left side.

“I did hurt you,” Timothy said, tightly.

I followed his gaze and looked down at myself.

When the pieces of the mirror had scattered throughout the room, some of them must have struck me. Tiny fragments of reflective glass glistened macabrely, embedded into my skin. Only the voluminous nature of Fae underclothing had saved me from worse damage. As it was, my climbing out of bed had jostled the shards enough that I was bleeding.

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