The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

been silent since they’d left her apartment. He was still human. There was no sign that he was in reality a gargoyle, except his perfect physique - a physique so well developed and balanced it had to have been crafted. No amount of training or special diets would have given those results.
    And he was dressed as a human. Kami had gone next door and explained to her neighbour, who was just returning from a party, that her date had spilled marinara on himself at dinner. Luckily her neighbour was huge, although not in the same way as Mord, and generous. He’d supplied her with pants that managed to cover Mord’s muscular thighs and a shirt that was able to close over his chest.
    She’d sighed when Mord had pulled on the clothing. She missed being able to study him, press her fingers against his bare skin. He’d started to leave without her, but she’d insisted he take her, assured him she’d go alone to the Mason’s if he didn’t. Still, he’d only agreed when she pointed out that he couldn’t know for sure where the Mason was - that he could be hiding nearby, to attack her as soon as Mord left.
    She unlocked her car and waited outside the driver’s door as Mord eyed the machine, then started to slip his massive body into the passenger seat. Her apartment was within walking distance of Mord’s skyscraper. She’d walked by him every day for the past three years, but to get to the Mason’s shop, they would have to drive - or fly. Although Mord had quit denying what he was, he had made no move to reveal his wings. She hoped he’d get past his hang-up and learn to trust her.
    Lights came down the street, blinding her. She raised a hand to protect her eyes and fought the surge of panic that rose in her breast. It was just a car. Yes, someone had tried to run her down with one earlier, but she couldn’t jump at every automobile that drove by. And last time she’d been alone. Now Mord was with her.
    The car turned into a side street, an alley really, covered in gravel. She relaxed, laughed. See, silly.
    She waved at Mord who was wedged into the passenger seat, looking crowded and tense. She laughed again and forced herself to find humour in his situation, to pretend all of this was normal.
    She somehow dropped her keys in the process.
    She bent to retrieve them and heard tyres crunching over gravel. Panic shot through her so quickly, she knew it had never really left her. She clawed at the ground.
    An engine roared. She didn’t have to look, she knew the car was speeding towards her.
    Mord heard the auto turn. Kami had disappeared out of sight after bending to retrieve her dropped keys. Without seeing her, he didn’t know if she sensed the danger, but it didn’t matter. The human female had no hope of out-running the car. She was trapped between the one swinging towards her and her own. It had taken Mord a lifetime to wedge himself into Kami’s tiny vehicle. He’d taken extra care so as not to damage the seat or frame as he shoved his too big body into the constraining space, but it took only seconds for him to free himself.
    He thought of the danger approaching her. His anger rock hard, his body immediately shifted, grew even larger, more muscular. Wings sprouted from his back. Metal shrieked as they unfolded and ripped through the vehicle’s roof. The door he’d just carefully pulled closed flew from its hinges; one strike of his elbow sent it sailing into the building Kami called home.
    He sprang onto the street, didn’t pause as he leaped again, his thighs propelling his body upwards, his wings, straight and strong, keeping him on track. He shot into the sky, saw the car -the same one that had tried to run her down earlier - hurtling down the road. Its lights were off this time, making the driver’s intention all the more clear.
    Kami. Where was she? An icy coldness wrapped around his chest, startled him. He’d heard humans describe the sensation. They called it fear. But gargoyles didn’t fear, didn’t feel any emotion. They did their job because they did - they got no joy from their acts, suffered no loss at their failures. They just “acted”. Which is what he had to do now, if Kami were to survive.
    He landed beside the car, facing the attacking vehicle. His feet crunched through the road’s surface. He spun, ignoring the debris he’d created. “Kami,” he called, intending to scoop her up, whisk her to safety.
    “Here.” Her voice was rough, afraid. She’d rolled under the car,