Interview with Beaumont Laroche, gargoyle extraordinaire...
I strolled down the sidewalk, the click of my high heels echoing in the quiet night air. Classic, old brick buildings at the University of Chicago stood like sentinels on my left and the dark, expansive lawn of Harper Quad swept to my right. A few buildings down a student exited the library, ran down the stairs, and disappeared around a corner. There wasn’t another soul in sight.
I stopped at an empty bench in front of Stuart Hall.
Where was Beaumont? We’d scheduled this time and place for his interview.
A cool, summer breeze slipped over my shoulders, raising the fine hair at my nape.
“I’m late. Forgive me.” Beaumont’s deep voice slid over my nerves like the softest velvet, smooth and rich.
I turned around.
He stood mere inches away. I hadn’t heard him arrive, but then, he’d probably materialized there in an instant. Gargoyle’s did that kind of thing.
My gaze drew from his steel-tipped boots, past his dark 501 jeans, and over his black T-shirt that clung to his chest, accentuating every muscle and hard line. My fingers twitched with the desire to run my fingertips over the material and feel the hardened steel for myself. Instead, I examined his features.
The tips of his shaggy brown hair teased his collar. A strong jaw led to full, plump, kissable lips, and a strong nose. What caught and held my gaze, though, were his gorgeous brown eyes. The color of deep, rich coffee, they studied me with a knowing intensity.
Damn. He’d caught my perusal. Heat rose up my neck and into my cheeks. “What kept you?”
“Business. I needed to dispatch a few fae on my way here. Nothing to worry about.” He held his palm toward the bench and smiled. “Please, have a seat.”
I’d thought him handsome before, but when he smiled, oh, Nelly, my feet turned to jelly. I sat on the seat before I lost my balance.
He slid onto the bench next to me and lay his arm over the seat back. With his large frame, he took up more than his share of the space and his thigh rested against mine. The warmth of his skin penetrated through my skirt and into my skin, lighting me up with a tingle.
I scooted as close to the armrest as I could to give him some space or maybe that was me that needed the space. I pulled a pen and notebook from my purse. The click of the pen seemed loud between us. “Thank you for meeting with me. As you know, we’re here for an interview. The readers would like to know you. Will you share something?”
His brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Like what?”
I could tell he was nervous, so I gave him an easy question to warm him up. “Well, tell them about the war. Who do you fight and why?”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. Darkness hardened his eyes. “Fae. Evil, vile creatures. They lure humans in with their charm and beauty, then slay them at the first opportunity. Fae were created by the god Gwawl in a fit of revenge against my goddess, Rhiannon, because she spurned him for a human lover. In order to protect the humans, she created the gargoyles to hunt the fae.”
“Okay.” I scribbled notes in my binder. “So, fae and gargoyles are different species?”
He pursed his lips, those full, lickable lips and exhaled. “Not exactly. Both fae and gargoyles were once human. When humans die, the good souls go to the otherworld and the bad souls become fae and work for Gwawl.”
I stopped my scribbling and glanced at him. “What about the gargoyles?”
“Rhiannon snags questionable souls and puts them into a gargoyle, until they can be retested.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Retested?”
He leaned against the bench’s back and the entire seat shuddered. “Gargoyles are questionable souls for a reason. At some point, each gargoyle will face his test. If he passes his test, he becomes human and can live out his life.”
“If he fails?”
Beaumont ran his hand through his hair then met my gaze. A deep sadness etched lines around his eyes. “If a gargoyle fails his test, he becomes a fae, the very creatures we hunt and despise.”
“Wow, that’s intense.” I stopped writing mid-sentence. “So, there are fae out there, all the time?”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. The contact sent a thrill coursing through me. My pen slipped from my fingers and clattered on the pavement. Beaumont reached down, picked up my pen, and handed it to me. When our fingers touched, I swear a flush of energy rippled between us.
“Fae only come out at night, as do the gargoyles.”
I blinked. “Where do they go during the day?”
“The fae return to the Otherworld.”
“And the gargoyles?” My voice squeaked on the last word.
The sadness returned to his eyes, and he pointed up.
“Heaven?”
He pursed his lips. “Rosalie, look there.”
I followed the line of his fingertip. My vision rose up the side of Stuart Hall. Situated on the top of the building rested several gargoyles. “You go there?”
“During the day, our souls reside in the stone gargoyles. We can see and hear everything around us, but we can’t move.”
“Which one is yours?”
“That one.” He pointed to the last gargoyle on the rooftop. In the darkness, I had a hard time discerning his features, but even in the glow from the streetlight, his long snout, pointed ears, and sharp teeth were visible. Beaumont was a wolf.
“Beaumont.” I peered at him. “How long have you been a gargoyle?”
He studied me for a moment, so long I didn’t think he’d answer, but then he exhaled. “I’m from twelfth century France and have been one of Rhiannon’s Night Guardians for over eight hundred years.”
I blinked. “That’s a long time. You must’ve killed a lot of fae.”
A slight twinkle formed in his eye. “I have an impressive kill record. Ask any of my teammates.”
I smiled. “Why did Rhiannon select you?”
The flicker in his eye died, and the muscles in his shoulders tensed. “You want to know what I did to become a questionable soul.”
A trickle of unease slid down my spine. I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah.”
He rose to his feet, and a tic pulsed to life in his jaw. “I must return to work. Let me escort you to your car.”
“I…I…” Confusion wracked my brain. “So, you’re not going to answer my question?”
He shook his head, but the charming smile returned. “My apologies, Rosalie, but I don’t discuss my past with anyone. Not even you.”
“Oh, I see.” I shoved my pen and notebook into my purse and stood. “Well, thank you for the interview, Beaumont.”
He placed his hand on my arm and smiled, that devilish smile that made my toes curl. “You’re very welcome, Rosalie.”
As he escorted me down the sidewalk, I prayed that someday he’d find someone that could break down his barriers, open his heart, and love him for the kind, gentle soul I knew hid somewhere deep within.
Heart Bandit, book 1 in the Gargoyle Night Guardians series is available now! To snag your copy, click <<here>>
I stopped at an empty bench in front of Stuart Hall.
Where was Beaumont? We’d scheduled this time and place for his interview.
A cool, summer breeze slipped over my shoulders, raising the fine hair at my nape.
“I’m late. Forgive me.” Beaumont’s deep voice slid over my nerves like the softest velvet, smooth and rich.
I turned around.
He stood mere inches away. I hadn’t heard him arrive, but then, he’d probably materialized there in an instant. Gargoyle’s did that kind of thing.
My gaze drew from his steel-tipped boots, past his dark 501 jeans, and over his black T-shirt that clung to his chest, accentuating every muscle and hard line. My fingers twitched with the desire to run my fingertips over the material and feel the hardened steel for myself. Instead, I examined his features.
The tips of his shaggy brown hair teased his collar. A strong jaw led to full, plump, kissable lips, and a strong nose. What caught and held my gaze, though, were his gorgeous brown eyes. The color of deep, rich coffee, they studied me with a knowing intensity.
Damn. He’d caught my perusal. Heat rose up my neck and into my cheeks. “What kept you?”
“Business. I needed to dispatch a few fae on my way here. Nothing to worry about.” He held his palm toward the bench and smiled. “Please, have a seat.”
I’d thought him handsome before, but when he smiled, oh, Nelly, my feet turned to jelly. I sat on the seat before I lost my balance.
He slid onto the bench next to me and lay his arm over the seat back. With his large frame, he took up more than his share of the space and his thigh rested against mine. The warmth of his skin penetrated through my skirt and into my skin, lighting me up with a tingle.
I scooted as close to the armrest as I could to give him some space or maybe that was me that needed the space. I pulled a pen and notebook from my purse. The click of the pen seemed loud between us. “Thank you for meeting with me. As you know, we’re here for an interview. The readers would like to know you. Will you share something?”
His brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Like what?”
I could tell he was nervous, so I gave him an easy question to warm him up. “Well, tell them about the war. Who do you fight and why?”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. Darkness hardened his eyes. “Fae. Evil, vile creatures. They lure humans in with their charm and beauty, then slay them at the first opportunity. Fae were created by the god Gwawl in a fit of revenge against my goddess, Rhiannon, because she spurned him for a human lover. In order to protect the humans, she created the gargoyles to hunt the fae.”
“Okay.” I scribbled notes in my binder. “So, fae and gargoyles are different species?”
He pursed his lips, those full, lickable lips and exhaled. “Not exactly. Both fae and gargoyles were once human. When humans die, the good souls go to the otherworld and the bad souls become fae and work for Gwawl.”
I stopped my scribbling and glanced at him. “What about the gargoyles?”
“Rhiannon snags questionable souls and puts them into a gargoyle, until they can be retested.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Retested?”
He leaned against the bench’s back and the entire seat shuddered. “Gargoyles are questionable souls for a reason. At some point, each gargoyle will face his test. If he passes his test, he becomes human and can live out his life.”
“If he fails?”
Beaumont ran his hand through his hair then met my gaze. A deep sadness etched lines around his eyes. “If a gargoyle fails his test, he becomes a fae, the very creatures we hunt and despise.”
“Wow, that’s intense.” I stopped writing mid-sentence. “So, there are fae out there, all the time?”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. The contact sent a thrill coursing through me. My pen slipped from my fingers and clattered on the pavement. Beaumont reached down, picked up my pen, and handed it to me. When our fingers touched, I swear a flush of energy rippled between us.
“Fae only come out at night, as do the gargoyles.”
I blinked. “Where do they go during the day?”
“The fae return to the Otherworld.”
“And the gargoyles?” My voice squeaked on the last word.
The sadness returned to his eyes, and he pointed up.
“Heaven?”
He pursed his lips. “Rosalie, look there.”
I followed the line of his fingertip. My vision rose up the side of Stuart Hall. Situated on the top of the building rested several gargoyles. “You go there?”
“During the day, our souls reside in the stone gargoyles. We can see and hear everything around us, but we can’t move.”
“Which one is yours?”
“That one.” He pointed to the last gargoyle on the rooftop. In the darkness, I had a hard time discerning his features, but even in the glow from the streetlight, his long snout, pointed ears, and sharp teeth were visible. Beaumont was a wolf.
“Beaumont.” I peered at him. “How long have you been a gargoyle?”
He studied me for a moment, so long I didn’t think he’d answer, but then he exhaled. “I’m from twelfth century France and have been one of Rhiannon’s Night Guardians for over eight hundred years.”
I blinked. “That’s a long time. You must’ve killed a lot of fae.”
A slight twinkle formed in his eye. “I have an impressive kill record. Ask any of my teammates.”
I smiled. “Why did Rhiannon select you?”
The flicker in his eye died, and the muscles in his shoulders tensed. “You want to know what I did to become a questionable soul.”
A trickle of unease slid down my spine. I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah.”
He rose to his feet, and a tic pulsed to life in his jaw. “I must return to work. Let me escort you to your car.”
“I…I…” Confusion wracked my brain. “So, you’re not going to answer my question?”
He shook his head, but the charming smile returned. “My apologies, Rosalie, but I don’t discuss my past with anyone. Not even you.”
“Oh, I see.” I shoved my pen and notebook into my purse and stood. “Well, thank you for the interview, Beaumont.”
He placed his hand on my arm and smiled, that devilish smile that made my toes curl. “You’re very welcome, Rosalie.”
As he escorted me down the sidewalk, I prayed that someday he’d find someone that could break down his barriers, open his heart, and love him for the kind, gentle soul I knew hid somewhere deep within.
Heart Bandit, book 1 in the Gargoyle Night Guardians series is available now! To snag your copy, click <<here>>