Free Stone's Kiss by Lisa Blackwood

drifted up. Two strangers debated with her uncle.
    “What are you hiding? We can smell it from out here.” A man’s voice echoed up from below.
    Lillian nudged the gargoyle until he let her look out the window. Below, two men faced off against her uncle. One of them, the older man with the graying hair looked vaguely familiar. It took her a moment to realize why. When Gregory bunched his muscles, preparing to leap down, she put a restraining arm of his shoulder.
    “Wait,” she hissed. “I know these people. Please don’t get all fierce on them. They’re friends of the family. The younger one’s name is Robert, and the older man is his grandfather, Jackson.”
    Jackson tilted his head to the side, sniffing at the air. “Tell me what you’re hiding. It smells of power and aggression.”
    “It’s a long story, but we have a new ally. Vivian will explain everything tonight when she meets with your leaders for the gathering. That’s all I can say for now,” her uncle said.
    Robert took a step closer to her uncle. “You’ve got to give us more. We saw … I can’t believe I’m saying this … we saw a unicorn. What has the Coven been up to? Tell us now or the Hunt will appear at your doorstep some night not of your choosing.”
    “Is that a threat?” Lillian’s uncle asked, voice sharp with annoyance.
    Jackson put a restraining hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “No, not a threat—a warning. One friend to another. We don’t want to see anything happen to you or your family. But whatever the Hunt decides, it’s out of our hands.”
    Her uncle’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. Come, I’ll drive you back to your farm. And yes, you did see a unicorn.”
    When the voices died away and the sound of retreating footsteps faded, Lillian turned from the window and pressed her back against the wall. The gargoyle—Gregory—stood looking down at her, his muzzle pointed in her direction, his expression unreadable. She wondered what the Hunt was—it didn’t sound good. But before she could voice her concerns, there was a disturbance outside in the hall. It came a second time. Closer now, she could make out the sounds—dishes rattling on a tray. Breakfast had come to her.
    Gregory advanced on the door with grim interest just as it creaked open. Gran strolled in, then shoved the door shut with her hip. Gran eyed the disheveled bed with one eyebrow raised in question, then looked the gargoyle up and down as she detoured around him. When she passed, she waved the two trays close to his muzzle and continued forward with a knowing smile. The gargoyle padded after her, sniffing at the trays as he came.
    “Did you sleep well?” Gran asked. Again the eyebrow rose in question.
    “Yes, very well … considering a rather large gargoyle was sharing the bed. Know anything about that?”
    Gran graced Lillian with a most innocent look. “Yours is the biggest bed in the house.”
    “Ha! I knew it. You said you ordered the wrong size for the resort and didn’t want to pay to ship it back.”
    “I couldn’t very well tell you it was for your gargoyle, now could I?”
    Lillian huffed and turned to the gargoyle and speared him with a look. “You’re not a dog—you don’t get to sleep in my bed.”
    Gregory seemed more interested in what Gran was carrying than in the conversation.
    Gran cleared her throat. “Anyways, I image you both must be hungry, so I brought a little something to hold you over until lunch. Eat, and then we’ll talk.”
    Lillian was about to tell her to talk now, but the mingled scent of real maple syrup, pancakes and sausages reached her nose. She tracked the trays as avidly as did the gargoyle. Deciding she could multitask, Lillian uncovered the first tray and snatched up one of the sausages. She was taking the first bite when the gargoyle leaned in close and sniffed at her food. “It’s not poisoned.” Too hungry to worry about manners, she ate it with her fingers. “Relax for five minutes.”